All You Can Know
by Akuma no Tsubasa
Summary: Cloud struggles to remember and must learn to deal. This task is made no easier by the threat looming on the horizon. Postgame sequel to previous fic Chi to Ase to Namida. Cloud and Sephirothcentric, ensemble. Contains yaoi shounen ai mslash.
1. After the Last Day

                Hello, hello!

                Here, as promised, is the sequel to _Chi to Ase to Namida_!  _CAN took place pre-game, and I've left the events of the game as they were in my little continuity, here.  This story takes place immediately after the events of the ending of Final Fantasy VII.  Some of this will definitely **not** make sense unless you have read _CAN_, and reading __Scenic Route to the Promised Land would also help. _ Scenic Route_ is no longer on fanfiction.net, since it was rated NC-17 for violence, gore, and adult situations.  Keep this in mind if you decide to got to these places to read it:_

For the slightly updated version go here:  

For the original version with notes go here: 

At this moment, knowledge of _Scenic Route is not required.  If you **do** read it, please thank the site owners for placing my fic there, and tell me what you think, so it can grow at more than its far too glacial pace._

Thanks for reading, further notes at bottom!

            All You Can Know

Cloud sat quietly beside the remains of the _Highwind, polishing his sword.  His eyes barely focused on the blade as he mechanically cleaned imaginary stains from it.  He was so close to remembering something, some vastly important **something, that he could feel it skittering over his nerves.**_

            Slowly, uncertainly, he turned his memories over in his head, not just those he had assumed to be true, but also the others he had disregarded since awakening in the train station in Midgar months ago, and the ones he'd only recently learned were there.  It was a terribly disorganized mess of sensation, reflection, and knowledge jumbled into an only barely traceable network within his mind.  One event didn't necessarily lead to the next in his head; rather, one led to some other one that might be the next, or an earlier one, or a later one.

            Cloud was slowly assembling a timeline for himself, reorganizing the memories as best he could.  He'd started with one he knew was real, one whose date he knew—unhappily enough, the promise at the well.  Then he grabbed a great handful of memories at random, and started sorting them.

            This happened before that, that happened after this, this happened after all of that…  It was confusing and hard, but Cloud was slowly—so slowly!—getting his memories in a semi-understandable order.  It was more difficult when he had a memory he remembered from a couple different viewpoints, like from both Zack's and his, or his and Tifa's.  It was even worse when he had events in his head he didn't **think he'd been present for.  He had to keep several timelines running simultaneously in his head to contain it all.**

            Now he sat, polishing away at Ultima Weapon, wondering at the sudden emotional turmoil he was in.  Sephiroth had burned his hometown, killed almost everyone he'd ever known, gotten him stuck with Hojo for five years, then tried to destroy the planet; he deserved to die.  And Jenova, too.  Indeed, the thought of having taken out Jenova made him feel better, but something seemed deeply wrong with having killed Sephiroth.  Maybe it was because he'd been a 'clone,' albeit a failed one?  He'd seen the reverence the others held Sephiroth in; perhaps a bit more of that had been programmed into him than he'd thought?

            Cloud looked up from his musings as someone cleared his throat quietly before him.  Vincent stood there, red eyes solemn under his equally red hood.  Cloud allowed himself a moment to gaze appreciatively at Vincent's fine features, then forced his mind to return to focus.  He crooked an eyebrow at Vincent, distantly amused that he was the only one who would dare approach him, right now.  Vincent Valentine—ex-TURK, now peacemaker and go-between.

            /_Shut up, Zack._/ Cloud thought to himself as Zack's distinctive brand of humor surfaced for a moment in his psyche.

            Vincent looked levelly at him.  "We have determined approximately where it is we have been forced to make camp.  We are about 50 miles outside of Midgar, almost that from Kalm Town."

            Cloud nodded.  "The _Highwind_?"

            Vincent shrugged, a tiny wry smile touching his lips, and a little dry humor warming his coolly professional voice.  "Judging by Cid's incessant, colorful, and passionate swearing, not immediately reparable.  He has so far been unwilling or unable to give a precise damage estimate, though it seems the airfoils are a total write-off."

            Cloud nodded again.  It was awful hard to get something like the _Highwind off the ground with no air foils.  Kind of like trying to make a rock fly.  A **very big rock.**_

            "Supplies?"  May as well get all the news, after all.

            Vincent seemed to notice his tense 'let's get it over with' manner.  "Not so bad as it could be.  We've plenty of food; the main problem is going to be water.  Much of the _Highwind's_ stored water was lost with most of the ship or spilled out when we hit.  Materia and items look good, though we're running a little low on hi-potions.  If we have to camp here for an extended period, tents will also become an issue, though we can make them stretch by using the _Highwind for shelter.  We should be able to get someone into Kalm or Midgar before that's an issue, though."_

            "The injured?"

            Now Vincent grimaced.  "Red XIII is still limping, though he refuses to remain idle.  I set him as look out on the south side—his senses will help, and he won't have to move much as a stationary sentry. Yuffie really should get some medical care.  She will live, but she could use a practiced hand for most of the bone-setting.  The Planet knows what happened to Reeve, but Cait is still shut down and unresponsive."

            Cloud bobbed his head a third time.  He'd expected as much.  "Can't do much about Cait, and Red is smart enough to keep off that injury.  I'll see what I can do about Yuffie in a bit; I seem to recall some battlefield medicine from back before…before."

            Vincent was silent a moment.  "Was there anything else you needed, Cloud?"

            Cloud shook his head.  "No, I'm fine.  I…think I can't believe we won, is all.  I feel a little off balance with no goal to work toward."

            Vincent seemed to accept this, though his eyes were still sharp on Cloud's features.  "We will all have to work at staying alive and healthy, for now.  After that, I imagine Midgar, even the Planet itself, will need some help in rebuilding."

            Cloud hesitated a moment, then grunted a soft acknowledgment of Vincent's words.  The ex-TURK turned away, gliding back toward the others on near-silent feet.  Cloud smirked, amused, when the quiet older man made Cid jump by coming out of 'nowhere' unexpectedly.  Cloud **knew** he did it on purpose, just as he was fairly sure Cid didn't actually mind, for all his cursing.  Funny how those two had become such good friends over the course of this; they really didn't seem to have much in common, but maybe that just made their friendship stronger.  But then, that seemed to be the case with all of them.  The things that kept them together—though nameless—were far stronger than the few things they had in common.

            Cloud stood up, stretching the kinks out of his legs and flipping his weapon to his back.  He really ought to go see to Yuffie now.  He just hoped she whined less about bone-setting than she did about airsickness.  She was a ninja from Wutai; surely she could deal with a bit of pain.

*

            It was amazing what a big rock from outer space could do to change a place's decor.  Cloud had to blink several times at the remains of Midgar just to figure out that it had in fact been Midgar, once.  The whole thing was **flattened**.  As though a great hammer had smashed down atop it, although Meteor had obviously not actually hit.  What little hadn't been utterly crushed was twisted into macabre spires reaching toward the sky like grasping skeletal hands.

            Given the number of dead he could see or smell, Cloud wasn't even vaguely amused with himself for coming up with such a metaphor.

            He was utterly amazed to find pockets of people still alive, though.  There had been the large family trapped between a bit of fallen Plate and the remains of an old lean-to, probably their own home.  There was the gang of street kids huddled in a chunk of sewer pipe.  There were dozens of small miracles of similar sorts sprinkled liberally amongst the dead, dying, and maimed.

            Aeris's church had survived entirely untouched.  A number of people had taken refuge in it, and they were likewise unscathed.  How strange the way the world worked.  Was it a coincidence, or something more meaningful?

            Thinking about it made his head hurt, so he stopped trying.  If there was an answer that he was meant to have, it would come in time, in pieces—like his memories, it wouldn't reveal itself to him all at once.

            They met up with Reeve, in person, at last.  Apparently, his transmitting gear had been destroyed by Meteor's effects.  He took the HP Shout off of Cait, seemingly intent on dragging it with him.  Cloud didn't care enough to argue.

            Reeve had apparently been using his time away from them to take stock of things in Midgar and what was left of Shinra Power Company.  As he told them, it seemed as though well over eighty percent of the population of Midgar had been killed, but those who had survived had mostly been those who hid in the places he'd designated safe zones—a weight off his shoulders to be sure.  He couldn't really help it if so few people listened to the advice of one who knew the city inside and out.

            Most of the Shinra Regular Army had dispersed to their hometowns for the 'end of the world.'  Reeve was currently in the middle of reallocating that man-power to help put the world back together again: rebuilding homes, schools, hospitals.  Midgar's SOLDIER forces, however, remained mostly intact, as did most of the forces at other major SOLDIER bases, like Junon, the Wutai bases, and various others.  Some of the smaller places had broken up, the men being less motivated to stay, but a large percentage of those at even the smallest bases simply headed to the nearest large stations.

SOLDIER was quickly becoming the backbone of the recovery forces.  They were far better trained in all forms of combat and better disciplined than the Regulars, so they were ideally suited for stopping rioting and looting.  They were also many times stronger than the average human, so back-breaking, labor-intensive tasks were sped up a lot by SOLDIER involvement.  SOLDIERs were also required to learn a wide range of skills, since they were so much smaller than the regulars, so a standard SOLDIER squad could do almost anything, from healing to building to record-keeping to police action.

Rude of the TURKs had shown up in a quickly slapped-together medical facility in Midgar.  He went around using his Restore Materia on anyone and everyone who needed it, and took no compensation for it.  He also helped SOLDIER clean up some of the rioters that had been so prevalent in the days immediately after Meteor.

Elena had shown up at the same place only days later.  She just came back with Rude after one of the last mop-up operations, making no excuses or apologies.  She did a little bit of first-aid, more medication dispensing, and a lot of paperwork.  She also brought refreshments to the workers.  She even supervised their preparation to make sure none of the scarce supplies walked off, even in the hands of someone who needed them.

Reno was, as yet, unaccounted for.

And with that, they were essentially caught up with events in Midgar, and mostly around the Planet.

Cid stayed with Reeve, trying to get permission to get into the store of parts for the _Highwind_ kept at Junon—they were mainly useless or barely useful for anything else, and rapid transit might become an issue should anything else screw up right now.  Vincent stayed with him.  Red XIII and Yuffie stayed at the hospital, Yuffie picking fights with poor Elena at every opportunity.  Tifa and Barret went to oversee work on their beloved sector seven.

All this left Cloud on his own.  Sword strapped to his back, Cloud set out into the recesses of Midgar.  He let his feet guide him wherever they wanted.  To his surprise, he found himself ascending onto the remains of the collapsed Plate, though he was not sure which section, and wasn't worried enough to check his compass to find out.  Once he got to the top of the plate, however, he experienced a powerful sense of deja vu.  He paused for a moment, trying to determine 'who' was the source of the sensation.  He discovered, to his dismay, that he couldn't pinpoint it.

At a loss, Cloud started hiking up the streets, finding the slant of the plate only a little difficult.  He once again let his feet take over—obviously, there was something he wanted to see here, and since his head didn't know what or where it was, his body would have to lead.

Soon enough, Cloud found himself outside a small house.  It was boarded up, and looked to have been that way long before Meteor appeared in the sky.  It seemed easy enough to pick the lock on the front door, but instead, Cloud looked around for a place someone might have hidden a key.  He found himself on his tip-toes reaching into a dark space only barely larger than two of his fingers.  They came out with a key.

Cloud slowly inserted the key into the lock and turned.  The door opened with a small squeak, and Cloud stepped inside.  He glanced around a narrow entry-way, a closet on one side, a sword rack on the other.  Ultima Weapon stayed firmly in place on Cloud's back, though the rack seemed specially designed to hold SOLDIER-type weapons, like Ultima Weapon.

"Hello?" he called into the still house.  There was a thin layer of dust on things, and the place seemed truly abandoned.  He stepped into a living area connected to a kitchen, kicking his boots off out of a reflex he had no idea he had.  A ghostly image passed before his eyes of Zack sprawled out on one of the chairs there smiling at…him?  Then a voice echoed from the kitchen.  _"Hello, Cloud.  Cookies should be ready in five.  If you're tracking mud on my carpet, you're not getting any."_

Cloud shivered.  How real it felt!  A memory?  He hadn't had it before, but there it was, glowing in his mind with a luminous sense of rightness that few other memories he had held.

The squeak of the door, a sudden heavy tread and the scrape of a sword from its sheath jerked him out of his musings.  A man with dark red-auburn hair lunged into the room, sword out.  He wore the uniform of a Colonel in SOLDIER and the little insignia for the commanding officer of the Midgar base on his collar.

"Who goes there?  You better have a good excuse for being here, mister, or you're going to regret…"  The man suddenly checked his swing as Cloud turned to face him fully, Ultima Weapon singing free of its bonds and into his fighting stance.  "…Strife?" the other asked.  "Holy, Strife, it's you!"

Cloud blinked.  "Do I…know you?" he asked, and the frown returned to the other's features.  Cloud quickly put his sword away and held out his empty hands, palms up.  "I'm sorry, sir.  I'm a little amnesiac, so you'll have to forgive my lapses in memory."  Well, it was near enough to the truth, anyway.

The auburn-haired man put his sword away as well, and gestured to himself.  "Colonel Andrews.  We met in Xi-Fe-Xiu during the Wutai Uprising.  I was commander of the Wutai branches of SOLDIER."

Cloud's brow furrowed.  "I fought in the Uprising?"  The memory of crouching in a muddy trench and pushing his dirty blond hair out of his eyes so he could see to clean his gun smacked him right between the eyes, and he winced.  "I did.  I remember that…partially, but clearly.  There was you and someone…Major Shimo?"

Andrews nodded solemnly, shocked by the scope of memory loss Cloud Strife was betraying to him.  "Shimo's a Colonel himself, now.  In Junon."  He stepped forward.  "Strife, what happened to you?  How did you lose your memory, and why are you dressed like a pre-reorganization SOLDIER—hell, like Zack?"

Cloud shrugged.  "It's…a long story."

"So start talking before I decide you shouldn't be in Colonel Zack's place."  Andrews made a snap decision not to mention that it was Sephiroth's, too.  While it seemed impossible for Strife to forget Sephiroth, of all people, it might have happened.  And the General got a lot of bad press, of late.

Cloud frowned.  "I…you knew about the Nibelheim mission, right?"

"Everyone did.  It reeked of set-up in hindsight, but there was only a faint scent of it apparent before everything."

"Well, I went; we went.  Big trouble, Sephiroth goes mad, razes the whole thing to the ground, tries to kill the lot of us.  We survived, but Hojo came along and we got to play guinea-pigs for him for five years.  Some of the experiments involved erasing one identity and replacing it with another.  I'm missing great whopping pieces of my life, and half of 'my' memories aren't even mine."

Andrews whistled.  "Shit.  Just to get something straight, 'we' is you and Zack, right?"

Cloud nodded.  "Yeah.  And here's the kicker—it's almost as accurate to call me Zack, now.  Much of my readily accessible memory was superseded by Zack's, and a whole lot of my personality is now what his was.  Yet, I, as 'Cloud,' barely remember anything about him.  I only wound up here because I let my feet do what they wanted."

"Great Planet…!"

Cloud felt his lips quirk in a bitter smile.  "That's about what I thought when I found out…only minus some of the more colorful cursing."

Andrews nodded solemnly.  "I can only just imagine.  Anyway, I'm glad you came when you did.  SOLDIER is allowed to hold the belongings of members listed as 'missing, presumed dead' for five years and five months.  This place and everything in it was on the verge of going up for sale.  I've heard some collectors have really been insistent about getting their hands on this place.  But since Zack and Sephiroth left everything to each other and you, everything here is yours now."

Cloud blinked.  "Sephiroth left me his stuff?  Why?  Did we really…know each other?  I thought I was just some Regular along for the ride in Nibelheim.  Come to think of it, why was I rubbing shoulders with the likes of you and Shimo in Wutai?"

Andrews sighed.  "Look, Strife.  I would ordinarily tell you all about everything, but if you are missing that much of your memory, maybe it's best if you remember and come to accept it yourself.  The fact remains that all of this is yours.  Why don't you hang out here for a while and see if anything jogs your memory?"

Cloud cocked his head, considering.  It sounded like a good, sound, reasonable suggestion, so he bobbed his head.  "Sounds all right to me, sir.  Thank you for letting me know."  
            Andrews laughed.  "Strife, it was worth it to see you again.  I was shocked as anything to find the door to this place hanging ajar.  I was expecting looters or something, not the rightful owner!"  Andrews sauntered toward the door, waving cheerily.  "If you can still find your way around, you may want to swing by the gym sometime.  Best damn place to catch up on SOLDIER news, now that the bars are closed."

Cloud laughed.  "Will do, sir," he said, his heels clicking together in an almost salute as the other man let himself out.

Cloud spent several hours poring over the place.  He looked at every little knickknack, every dish, every article of clothing.  He got deja vu more times in one hour sorting through Zack's sock drawer than he'd gotten before in his whole life.  The real shock came when he found himself sorting through his own clothing, staring at shirts, pants, socks, underwear for a much smaller person.  He could see himself in many of these things.  When he started looking through his hair bands, Cloud found himself running a hand through his short hair.  He remembered that it had been longer, before, at least in back.  When had he cut it…?

He had a flashback of being held down in a transparent cage while a man shaved his head, Hojo and a full complement of armed guards looking on.

Cloud immediately resolved to let his hair grow.  Even if he was supposed to try to remember everything eventually, he really didn't want reminders of that time smacking him in the face every time he looked in the mirror.  Besides, the long hair would help him remember the times before Hojo.

Cloud picked himself up, steeled himself, then entered Sephiroth's room.  In contrast to Zack's vague clutter and his own neat-because-I-don't-have-much cleanliness, Sephiroth's room was well ordered.  He had little, and most of what was visible on initial inspection could have belonged to anyone.  All that he owned had its own place; neat, but not neat in a painful or obsessive way.  Sephiroth just seemed to have been an organized person—which seemed all the odder compared to the madman Cloud knew from Nibelheim onward.

To Cloud's surprise, he found a few items of Zack's in Sephiroth's room—mostly magazines, but also a simple decorative bangle, and a pair of socks with holes worn through them—the latter obviously on Sephiroth's 'things to throw out' stack.  To his even greater surprise, he found near buckets of his things, and he had seldom had much.  There was a messy pile of his hair bands on one corner of the night stand, one of his old, faded t-shirts was draped over a chair, a stack of text books that seemed both utterly familiar—as though he'd read every page of them—and also totally strange sat on one of the bookshelves…

It looked like he'd practically lived in Sephiroth's room.  Admittedly, it seemed as though the house was stocked only for short visits during leisure time, but it seemed to have been frozen in the act of gravitating toward Sephiroth's room.

Sighing, Cloud sank down on Sephiroth's bed.  So little of this made sense.  The corner of his mind that was labeled 'Zack' told him that it all made sense, he just wasn't looking at the evidence and coming to conclusions properly.  At that moment, Cloud didn't really care.  He was tired and no longer felt like sorting through all the stuff in this house.  He contemplated getting up and going to bed, then shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face.  He was sitting on a perfectly functional bed right now; why bother getting up?

Cloud burrowed himself under the covers after shaking the worst dust off them.  Once there, he sighed contentedly.  This bed was really comfortable.  He had expected a little thrill from sleeping in Sephiroth's bed, but instead found himself sinking into sleep as though he'd found the most familiar, comfortable, easy to sleep in spot on the Planet.

Maybe he had.

*

"Hey, you."

Cloud didn't bother to lift his head from where it was pillowed against his arm; he didn't even open his eyes.  "What do you want?  I'm trying to sleep."

"I know.  Just wondering what kept you so long."

"?"

"It's been years, Cloud.  Things haven't been right without you.  I'm glad you're here."

Cloud snaked an arm out to reach behind him.  "Shut up and come here," he mumbled.  A weight settled on the bed behind him, and he sighed as strong arms looped around him.  "Better."

A soft laugh.  "Sleep, Cloud.  Time enough for talk later; for now, just rest.  You deserve it."

"Mmmnnn, Seph…"

Cloud jerked awake faster than he'd ever done so in his admittedly unreliable memory.  Had he really just dreamed he was in bed with Sephiroth?  He looked around himself.  He found to his surprise and vague unease that he was sleeping distinctly on one side of the bed, leaving room for another body to slip in behind him.  Exactly as he'd lain in the dream.  Maybe the dream had prompted him to take that position?

Maybe that position had prompted the dream.

Cloud shivered as a thought occurred to him.  No matter what, the dream had happened because something about being in bed with Sephiroth had already been buried in his mind.  Was that Zack's influence?  Sephiroth had distinctly said 'Cloud' in the dream, but surely that was just creative editing on his brain's part.  Besides, working off memory, there was no way it could have 'been years,' since Cloud hadn't **known Sephiroth for years.  Maybe a little before Nibelheim, and five years of thinking him dead.**

Cloud groaned and scrubbed at his face.  Then he sat up and padded out of the room for a shower.  As much as he liked tormenting himself with questions he had no answers to—yes, that was sarcasm—he really shouldn't be hanging around here much longer.

One quick shower (Holy, how were the water lines still working?) and a frantic attempt to find both towels and clothes later, Cloud felt ready to go.  He was wearing a pair of Zack's old sweats and one of his t-shirts, black with the words "got Mako?" printed on it in Mako green.  He ran his own comb through his hair and dumped his—well, Zack's really—uniform in his bedroom to clean later.  He'd almost forgotten how **nice** it was to be in something other than the uniform.  It had been years since he'd had anything else, since it was all he'd had for the months since escaping Hojo, and before that he'd been naked in a see-though cell for five years.

Cloud found he did indeed remember where the SOLDIER gym was.  It took several minutes to walk there, but that was okay.  It had been a while since he just dropped in on a place, walked there in no hurry, content to simply gaze up at the appearing stars.  It really was odd how a rock from the sky could change a place—not long ago, the lights of the city had obscured any sight of all but the very brightest stars on the darkest of nights.  Now, there was only a bit of lingering chemical pollution, with none of the light pollution that ordinarily strangled the splendor out of the Midgar sky.  The air even tasted cleaner, though the Mako stink lingered since the reactors were not yet shut down.  It was a time consuming process to shut down a reactor safely, and though there was no way he could have known it, he did.

Cloud shook his head and listened a moment to the sounds of the gathering night.  Nights in Midgar had always been an awful lot like days, at least in the slums where there was hardly any sunlight, but right now Midgar could have been practically any other place.  The soft sounds of insects and small animals that had survived the disaster and were beginning to return were most prominent, followed by the distant sounds of people.  He was so far away from the bustle of rebuilding that people seemed almost to not exist.  Beneath all the sounds of life, there was the faint whisper of his Mako-enhanced hearing, a sound that had become very normal to him.

Immersed in his senses, Cloud almost didn't notice when he had finally reached the SOLDIER gym.  Only when the sounds of men exerting themselves and the protests of various pieces of equipment reached him did Cloud halt and look at where he had been headed.  The stocky building interrupted the shape of the new skyline of mangled metal spires with a nice, normal shape, standing charcoal-grey against the bruised color of the sky.

It looked…very gym-like.  Big double doors, no real windows, the sounds of people on mats and hardwood floors, artificial lighting from those bulbs that remained.  Cloud took a deep breath and stepped inside.

At first, his presence went unnoticed and unremarked.  But SOLDIER was a small group, and people as distinctive in appearance as Cloud just didn't pop out of the woodwork.  Soon enough, there was a gaggle of SOLDIERs headed his way, obviously the bullies of the group—while SOLDIER was generally pretty good as far as attitudes went, just like any other place, it did attract some bullies.  Cloud sighed mentally, and hoped these guys would go away quickly if he didn't provoke them.

The leader, a handsome man with a good seven inches on him, stopped right in front of him.  "Hey, no kiddies allowed.  Shinra may've gone crunch, but we still don't let any little girls in."  His friends chuckled and Cloud swallowed his ire.  He **knew he looked feminine—it had meant trouble for him from childhood—so they didn't have to rub it in!**

Rather than crush the pathetic fool's face in as his more bloodthirsty side wished, Cloud calmly looked up at the taller man.  "I'm sorry, sir, but I am male, twenty-one years old, and SOLDIER has no height restrictions."

The SOLDIER smirked.  "You think you're all that, eh, fairy?  Well, SOLDIERs got Mako, and you don't.  So beat it."

Cloud let his half-lidded eyes open, displaying the glare of the brilliant Mako energy in them, powerful enough to show despite the artificial light that washed out most SOLDIERs' eyes.  "I do have Mako.  I also have a SOLDIER sector pass, if you want to see it?  It's a little old, but I've been listed 'presumed dead' for a few years, so it never got renewed."

The SOLDIER sneered.  "Yeah, right.  More like you're a coward who went AWOL, and you're just back to take a slice of glory, now that the Company's gone."

Cloud pulled out the dog-tags he had managed to keep with him through everything and presented the tab that indicated he was allowed to use SOLDIER facilities.  The SOLDIER glowered.

"Fine, so you ripped dog-tags off a dead body.  There're enough of them lying around, now."

Cloud was truly beginning to get peeved.  He felt his muscles tighten as he fought not to go for his sword, but the SOLDIER had seen him tense.

"Aw, strike a nerve there, did I, blondie?"

That **did** it.  Ultima Weapon hissed out of its sheath on his back and comfortably into hand.  The SOLDIER facing him hesitated a moment, not knowing what to make of the huge, crystalline blade, but he jerked his sword out, too, immediately casting Ice 2 on Cloud.  Obviously, this man was reasonably adept at magic, because that did a fair bit of damage for a mere Ice 2, but Cloud had taken and dealt bigger and better.  He'd been impaled on Masamune in it's Master's hands, had endured five years of nearly non-stop Mako treatments and experimentation at Hojo's hands, had beaten back Jenova, and had stood toe-to-toe with Sephiroth.

This man was **nothing**.

Cloud smacked his opponent aside with the flat of his blade, crushing through the frantic attempt to block or parry.  He swatted the other man aside like a fly with one regular attack.  Then, when the man crashed to the ground, Cloud immediately planted one foot on his sword-hand, forcing him to release his weapon, and put the sharp tip of the deceptively blunt-looking Ultima Weapon to his throat.  His enemy stilled.

"There, I take it you'll be having no more problems with me?  And quit charging that Ice Materia—I think we've already proven your magic is nearly useless against me."

The SOLDIER nodded slowly, and complied.  Cloud stepped away, then whirled when a voice addressed him from not too far away.  "Damn, Strife.  Do you **always have to make an entrance?  Rumor has it you nearly sent Zack to the hospital when you first sparred him.  And put that great tree-chopper away before you hurt someone."**

Cloud frowned at Andrews as he obediently sheathed his blade, then the memory floated to the surface.  Cloud quickly put it in position in the memory matrix he was constructing himself, then gifted Andrews with an innocent expression his feminine features could still pull off as easily as when he'd been a child.  "Aw, sir, I did **not!  I only gave him an itty-bitty bruise.  And you should have seen what he did in return!  I could barely get up for drills the next morning!"**

Andrews shook his head, his short auburn pony-tail lashing behind him.  "I don't believe you; all these years later and you're still a scamp."

Cloud smiled slightly.  "When it suits me to be, sir."

Andrews ruffled his hair.  "Cut it out with the 'sirs,' Strife.  You know the gym is informal."  He frowned.  "What happened to your hair, Strife?"

Cloud tensed.  "Hojo happened."

Andrews sighed.  "Sorry, Strife, didn't mean to upset you."  Cloud shrugged it away, and Andrews seemed to accept that.  Then he smiled.  "Got a few people who'd like to see you again."

Cloud shrugged again, and followed when Andrews waved for him to do so.

There was a small group of people clustered over on one side of the gym, chattering in excited, but quiet tones.  Cloud was startled to realize he **knew these people.  He screeched to a halt, and Andrews looked at him, a question in his eyes.  Cloud shrugged and wracked his brain for names.  God, he could almost figure them out.  The woman was most noticeable since SOLDIER had so few women in it.  Next most striking was a man of about average size for a Regular in a Regular's uniform.  The rest of the faces were also recognizable, and Cloud screamed at his mind to relinquish to him at least where he knew them all from.**

/_Wutai,_/ a voice in the back of his mind said, very quietly.  The floodgates opened at last and names tumbled into his awareness.  Artemis, Ray, and the Thirteenth Street gang.

"Holy…!" he breathed, stepping forward.  Heads turned toward him, then smiles broke out on faces all around.  Cloud suddenly found himself tackled flat by a highly enthusiastic Ricardo "Ray" Ramirez.

"Cloud!  Dude, you're alive!  They said you were dead, and Zack and General Sephiroth, too!  But I knew better—Ha!  Zack and the General are probably just hiding out somewhere until this whole fake Sephiroth thing dies down!"

Cloud awkwardly, but happily, wrapped his arm around one of his best friends ever.  "Ray!  Holy, it is **so good to see you!"  He sobered.  "To my knowledge, though, Zack and Sephiroth are both dead.  Zack died when we busted out of one of Hojo's labs; Sephiroth died in Nibelheim."**

Ray's face fell, as did most of the faces around them.  Hearing confirmation of a rumor that much of the Shinra had secretly been hoping was false for years was bound to do that to anybody.  Nonetheless, in seconds, Ray was back to hugging—almost cuddling—Cloud and babbling happily.  The whole group of SOLDIERs around them sat down, adding their bits as Ray updated him on everything.

Captain Jackson was a Major, now; Buck Sergeant Ryans had retired and set up an off-duty bar on the fringes of town that was now being used as a supply depot and rest station for the repairs in Sector Two, along with the clinic there.  Artemis was still looking for 'Ms. Right' and kicking ass as part of Riot Control.  Ricky and Reggie, were helping out with debris clean-up in Sectors One and Two, and maintained that Sarge Ryans was the best drink mixer on the Planet.

Cloud gazed at the faces around him, delighted by the waves of comfortable familiarity radiating off of them.  These were people he'd fought beside in a messy war Shinra had almost lost, people he trusted.  He didn't feel like a man who'd spent the last five years in a lab and most of his recent life confused as to his identity.  Rather, he felt like a soldier who'd been stationed elsewhere, who had friends willing to fill him in on recent events.  Cloud took it all in, placing the feeling of happiness in a special place in his memory, the 'I **know this happened and it's good' section.  He was oblivious to Colonel Andrews parked against a nearby wall, watching him watch them, with a pensive expression on his face.**

*

All right!  Part one of _All You Can Know!  It's a big, big part, and I hope you enjoyed it!  I blatantly stole the title for the fic off a song by Steve MacDonald off of the album Sons of Somerled—again.  This one describes poor Cloud's mental state pretty well, I think.  Lyrics are further down._

Yeah, I guess I'm starting with Cloud all confused and unhappy.  Don't worry, though, things will get better for dear Cloudy.  *grin*  I hope everyone will stay tuned for the next installment, hopefully coming soon to the matri-I mean, to a computer near you!  *laugh*

As always, comments, questions, concerns, et cetera are welcome.  I love reviews and reviewers…  Doesn't knowing that just make you want to click that little review thing-a-ma-jig?

--Akuma no Tsubasa

"Will a man sell his soul  
When a man wants to know  
..Memories are forever

  
Will a man change his mind  
Hoping to find  
..Lost reality

  
All that you've been  
And all you've become  
Can a man hope to last

  
Not knowing his past  
If he chooses to stay  
Will the world fade away  
  


All that I know, is all that I know  
And all that I know, is all I can show  
  


And it hurts but it's true  
When you pray to the blue  
And so you reveal, that nothing is real  
Nothing but you  
  


I hear the past calling me  
Calling forever we'll be... one family  
  


Will a man lose his mind  
Hoping to find  
  


Will a man lose his way  
Will he break down and pray  
  


Look for the questions  
and the reasons why  
Look to the people

look to the sky  
  


Look to the books

look for the names  
Look for the pride  
that flows in your veins  
  


Look to the loved ones,  
where have they gone  
They live on in memory  
they live on in song  
  


Look with amazement  
soon you will find  
That the past is still real,  
and it's all in your mind"


	2. In Yesterday's News

Hi, all!

Happy New Year (a little late)!  Here's the next part of _All You Can Know!  I'm sorry for the delay, but my new work schedule has eliminated my Saturdays—my biggest writing time.  I'm trying to compensate, though, so hopefully this won't happen again._

On to the fic!

*

Cloud, once again in uniform, walked with a relaxed gait into the medical center where Yuffie was and where his other friends had decided to meet.  They wanted to get together, get status reports, play the mutual support game…yawn.  Cloud didn't mind most of it, but the thought of Tifa clinging to his arm, trying to smother him with her cleavage, and crying about her little bar and all the deaths in Sector Seven made him want to make a strategic withdrawal—read, run like mad and hide until she either died or gave up.

However, Cloud really wanted to know about any changes in, well, anything.  Maybe he'd just been the leader of their merry little band for too long, or maybe it was a bit of Zack surfacing in him, but right now Cloud wanted to be kept appraised of everything.  No one seemed to mind when he got all assertive and authoritative, so Cloud figured he could just continue for now.  They were hardly a military unit, so it wasn't like they had a chain of command, but everyone had grown comfortable deferring to his judgment.  Cid also seemed to be a decent leader, but Barret was just too aggressive, Tifa too timid and self-centered, Red and Vincent too quiet, Yuffie too inexperienced, and Cait too happy-go-lucky.  Cloud found it funny that Reeve was running the show as far as Shinra went, while his alter-ego would rather have been telling fortunes.

Cloud's more or less good mood vanished abruptly upon entering.  His stomach dropped to bounce on the hospital floor, even as he came to a screeching halt upon seeing one of his foremost fears right there in the 'hospital.'  Cloud **hated** reporters violently, and he wracked his brain for a reason for their particular breed of pond scum to be here.  Of course, Reeve had been spending a lot of time here using the med center as a part-time base of operations, so maybe they wanted to talk to the big guy…

Then the cameras swung as one unit toward him.  "Mr. Strife, Mr. Strife!" cries went up, and suddenly he had a dozen reporters in his face, wanting to know all about him, the quest to defeat Sephiroth, was he banging teammate Tifa, blah, blah, blah.  Didn't they have anything better to do?  The rest of the world was picking up the pieces of their lives, or helping others put theirs back together, but these newsies wanted the scoop on how the world was saved.  For posterity's sake, of course, but it annoyed him an awful lot, and the cameras made him feel like he was on display.  The sensation was too much like what he remembered of his time with Hojo for him to be comfortable with it.

Why did they even bother?  All of Midgar's transmission stations were down, and most of the others in a hundred mile radius had been shorted out by the powerful electromagnetic field Meteor had.  Not to mention the extra damage Holy and the Lifestream had done.  How were they getting their information out?

Cloud sealed his lips together in a thin line and narrowed his eyes slightly.  Newsies obviously didn't have much in the way of danger instincts, though, since none of them even backed off.  Disgusted, Cloud straightened his back, tilted his chin up, and pushed past the obnoxious flies.  He ignored their protests and their frantic attempts to find a question he'd answer as he marched toward the other side of the lobby.  

Reeve stood there looking harried and vaguely amused.  Cloud rolled his eyes.  "I take it this is your fault?"

Reeve shrugged.  "They've jumped all of us for our part in 'saving the world.'  You've just been unreachable—for them, anyway—so you're only now getting to experience the joys of the media circus."

Cloud grimaced as they turned away from the reporters and into the rest of the building.  "Still, a heads-up would have been nice."  He smiled slightly and nodded gratefully at Elena and a couple SOLDIERs who were playing security officers right now.  And man, oh, man—Elena looked **scary standing there with a hand on the butt of her pistol and several explosives in plain sight.  Her usually soft, caramel brown eyes were hard as any he'd ever seen on anyone.  He wondered why she had never shown them that side of her when they'd been fighting.  Surely she knew that half the team would have chickened out seeing such an expression on her face.  Of course, Reno had never seemed to take them seriously, either; only Rude and Tseng had ever seemed truly menacing, and that was because they were the types who took everything seriously, especially their jobs.**

Somehow, Cloud was half-convinced that Reno and Elena were possibly the more dangerous TURKs, and deliberately let them think they were less dangerous than their companions.  Cloud was all too happy to acknowledge that he'd never seen them truly bent on killing him, and was glad that, for whatever reason, they had always held back against them.

Cloud really wondered where Reno had gotten to.  Having a man like that running around somewhere unsupervised could be very dangerous.  It was odd, though, that Cloud didn't actually worry about Reno doing something stupid or dangerous.  He had to be competent to be a TURK, and Cloud had witnessed firsthand just how dangerous the TURKs could be.  And even if Reno seemed to have the same sort of issues that almost everyone Cloud knew had, he also seemed to have a fully functional head on his shoulders—which was more than Cloud could say for himself.

Reeve smiled slightly at him as he came back to himself, having zoned out wondering why he actually **trusted a TURK.  Cloud shrugged sheepishly, then frowned, irritated when he realized he could still hear those noisy reporters.**

"Reeve, **tell** me there's someplace around here where a guy can get some quiet."

Reeve chuckled.  "Yeah, that's where we're going now, Fearless Leader."  He leaned conspiratorially close to Cloud.  "Be glad none of us has yet mentioned you were the leader of our merry band.  They'll notice soon enough, but for now you ought to be able to lie low."  Reeve straightened, hand absently rising to his throat to fix a tie he didn't wear, then ran it down his front to smooth wrinkles out of his shirt.  The poor man had obviously spent waaaay too long in a suit.  But he smiled anyway.  

"Now we're going to get all caught up on everything, straight from the horses' mouths.  Technically, you and the others don't really have any reason to be at this meeting, but we're doing this under the pretense of explaining what happened.  I should warn you, there will be press watching from their little boxes where they can't actually jump us and ask obnoxious questions."  Reeve turned down a hallway, and Cloud stepped beside him with drill precision his body seemed to remember entirely too well.  Reeve smirked, amused.  "Geeze, take it easy there, Cloud!  Right now, we think I'm just going to explain everything, and let the division heads worry about asking specific questions or you guys.  You probably won't have to say more than a couple words."

Cloud shrugged.  "As nice as that sounds, Reeve, if there's anything important I feel I can contribute, I will.  I won't hide things if I can help it.  People have a right to know…with luck, maybe something in all this will help jog my memory.  Just cover for me if I have to bail to get my head on straighter, okay?"

Reeve nodded.  "Sure thing.  Heaven knows Zack and Sephiroth dealt with the press often enough—you might have a bit of experience working with the press from them."  The ex-executive sighed.  "I remember the first time I saw Sephiroth.  It was a meeting to talk about SOLDIER going into standby at the start of the Wutai Uprising, and I was the Secretary of Urban Development's secretary, then.  Planet, the man could handle a room full of people like nothing, but I think Shinra really pissed him off that day."

"Wouldn't let Seph send reinforcements to Wutai," Zack commented from Cloud's mouth.  Cloud slapped a hand over his recalcitrant mouth when Reeve's stare informed him he'd actually **said** that, not just thought it.  "Holy, Zack, shut up, I'm in public, here!" he hissed at himself, which did nothing to make Reeve relax again.  In fact, the executive's left eyebrow seemed to have lodged itself in his hairline and showed no indication it would come down soon.  Cloud sighed.  "Ignore me—us.  What part of me is Zack occasionally feels the need to contribute.  I think I can still convince the media I'm mostly sane, though."

Reeve smiled again and relaxed.  "I'm sure.  You had us convinced for a while, and we had to share hotel rooms and tiny little tents entirely too often for you to hide much from the lot of us nosy jerks."

Cloud smirked.  "Definitely."  Then he straightened his uniform as they paused before a door.

"You ready for this, Cloud?" Reeve asked.  "If you're not, we can give them the overview without you."

Cloud shook his head.  "They will think I'm avoiding them—and I would be—so they would give me no rest.  Let's do this, Reeve."  Reeve nodded, opened the door, and walked inside.  Cloud took a steadying breath and stepped in behind him.

The room was large, with a platform at one end outfitted with metal chairs upon which the team sat.  There was a table before the chairs with glasses of water and microphones.  It really did look like a press conference, even if the press was not actually allowed to do any questioning.  The other side of the room had metal chairs also, and tables and water and mics.  They lacked only the platform, but they outnumbered the warriors by a lot.

As Cloud crossed to the table, he saw Colonel Andrews in the 'audience' looking at him with a very well-hidden expression of disbelief stamped on his features.  Cloud caught his eye and gazed levelly at him a moment, wordlessly trying to tell him that this would explain a lot, to be patient.  Afterward, if Andrews still had questions Cloud had answers to, he would give them.  Besides Andrews, Cloud saw Rude, some other highly ranked SOLDIERs, and a lot of suits.

With an inaudible sigh, Cloud chose himself one of the three empty chairs at the table.  The others had all removed their weapons, so Cloud followed suit.  He swung Ultima Weapon off his back, hearing the gasps as people saw a rather small man lifting a gigantic sword like a feather in his bird-boned arms.  He set it carefully against the wall beside him, having chosen the seat in the corner of the room where his right arm was free to grab his weapon and swing without worrying if he'd decapitate a teammate in the process.  It also meant he could intercept any threats that came through that door—and could outrun the newsies after it was all over.

A hush fell when Reeve cleared his throat.  "Ladies and gentlemen.  You are here because you are the people most instrumental to the rebuilding of Midgar.  We meet here to get updates on how the work is progressing every week, but this is a special meeting.  Assembled here before you is the team that just saved our world so we actually have this chance to rebuild it.  We are going to tell you about it, so make yourselves comfortable; this will take a while.  We may answer some questions at the end.

"You may also have noticed the empty seats.  One is for one of our number who's still in the clinic recovering from her injuries.  The other is out of respect for the one of us who died in this recent battle.  This is how we choose to honor her memory, as well as by picking up the pieces of the world she loved so much."

Reeve looked back at them in the respectful silence that fell then.  "Where do we want to start, guys?"

Silence from them, until Cloud uncomfortably broke it.  "This ended with Sephiroth.  Maybe it should begin with him, too?"  He looked at Vincent.  "Assuming you have no problems with that starting point."  Vincent shook his head, obviously thinking something along the lines of 'let's get it over with.'  Cloud empathized.

Reeve nodded firmly, and leaned back from his mic.  Vincent sighed and sat forward to speak into his.

"Greetings.  I am Vincent Valentine.  I was once a TURK."  In the audience, Rude shifted, and Vincent nodded.  "Yes, that Vincent Valentine, Mr. Rude.  Thirty years ago, I went missing on an easy mission to protect some Shinra scientists in the Nibel area—among them, Hojo.  He was performing experiments using the genetic material of what he believed to be an Ancient called Jenova.  He placed this material inside lab specimens, then exposed them to Mako.  These experiments culminated in the birth of a human baby already exposed to Jenova's genetic code and Mako.  That child was Sephiroth."  Vincent leaned back.

Cloud smiled very slightly.  /_How very typical of you, Vincent.  Short and to the point, with none of the details they're really interested in.  That way **we get to answer their questions.  I want so badly to do the same.**_/

Reeve was similarly amused.  "Thank you, Vincent."  He turned to the watchers.  "Questions so far?"

Rude quietly put up a hand, and stood when he was acknowledged.  "Where were you those thirty years, Mr. Valentine?  You were the best sharpshooter the TURKs ever had, but you just vanished on a cakewalk mission.  And you ought to be—what—fifty-seven, fifty-eight?  Yet, you seem no older than thirty, if that."

Vincent bowed his head.  "I made the mistake of attempting to halt Hojo's experimentation.  He shot me, pointblank—I believe I was clinically dead for quite a long time—then he performed experiments upon myself, also.  When he grew bored, he sealed me in some form of suspended animation, in which I remained until scant weeks ago.  To me, it is almost as though no time passed at all."

Most of the audience winced, but Rude merely nodded slightly and sat back down.  Reeve looked around.  "Further questions?"  Silence reigned, so he nodded.  "All right.  I suppose now we skip ahead to when Sephiroth went insane.  I assume most of you are more or less familiar with Sephiroth's military record."  He turned to Cloud.  "Cloud, if you would?"

Cloud steeled himself.  "Hello.  My name is Cloud Strife.  Nibelheim was my hometown.  We—meaning General of SOLDIER Sephiroth, Colonel of SOLDIER Zack, Regular Private Carver, and myself—were to look into some unusual activity in the vicinity of Nibelheim.  We hired a guide to the Nibel Range, Miss Tifa Lockheart, there.  We hiked up into the mountains, noting an unusual amount of Mako monsters along the way, and a slowed rate of Mako withdrawal on the reactor's part.  We found certain…anomalies in the Mako condensers.  Hojo was using the mutagenic properties of highly condensed Mako to rapidly and spontaneously mutate human specimens held within the condensers."

Cloud was kind of weirded out by the fact that it all seemed to trip off his tongue.  Especially once he got into the Mako portion.  Sudden memory struck—he had been a specialist in Mako, and a damned good one.  For damned sure he knew what he was talking about.  He realized he'd been silent a bit too long and pulled himself together.

"My job was to patch up any leaks I could.  I judged that I had nowhere near the supplies or time needed to fix all the many things wrong in that reactor, so I suggested we seal what we could, and return to town to call in a hazardous materials team.  Sephiroth concurred.  However, there was an…incident, leading Sephiroth to question what he'd been told of his origins.  He stumbled across documentation of the experiments that produced him while we were there.  The knowledge drove him mad.  He killed everyone in town and burned the place to the ground.

"Zack and I headed up the mountain to stop him.  Carver was, we suspected, long dead, but the two of us were enough to take Sephiroth down.  I had spent the time since then believing him dead, up until Meteor."

Reeve nodded.  "Thank you, Cloud.  Questions?"

Colonel Andrews stood up, not bothering to wait for Reeve to acknowledge him.  "Strife."

Cloud straightened in his seat.  "Colonel Andrews, Sir."

Andrews nodded solemnly.  "How did General Sephiroth die?  Zack was very strong, but no match for The General toe-to-toe.  You were also strong, but you weren't even a SOLDIER at the time."

Cloud had cringed at the question.  A tiny voice in his mind was screaming at him to beg out of the inquiry, but another part could not back away.  This was Colonel Andrews!  He was trustworthy, strong, and outranked him by a few light-years.  Besides, he knew that Andrews had just asked the question everyone else was thinking, though probably not courageous enough to ask it.

Cloud took a deep breath.  "Sir.  Miss Lockheart was one of the very few who survived the burning of the town.  She went up to the reactor after Sephiroth, where she found her father murdered, and Masamune lying next to his body.  That on its own was an indication how wrong things were—Sephiroth loved that sword.  Anyway, Miss Lockheart attempted to take down Sephiroth with his own sword.  Zack came in just in time to see Sephiroth tear the sword away and nearly eviscerate her.  He moved to attack Sephiroth and managed to bang him up a bit before Sephiroth swatted him aside, also.  Zack gave me his sword to carry on the fight.  I managed to get the drop on Sephiroth, thanks mainly to a Pre-emptive Materia, and gave him a deep gash that limited his mobility, but he pushed me aside.

"I caught up to him on the bridge spanning the Mako reservoir in the Mt. Nibel Reactor.  I failed to surprise him that time, and he impaled me.  I got enough leverage to get him off his feet once his sword was stuck in my body.  I levered him off the ground and over the side into the Mako below.  Just before the Mako swallowed him up, he seemed to come back to himself."  /_He smiled at me./  Cloud shook his head, hoping he wasn't shaking as badly as he thought he was at the recollection of Sephiroth's small, contented smile as he fell.  Cloud remembered Sephiroth had fallen without making a sound, yet he clearly remembered hearing screams._

Cloud shook his memories away.  "And that's how The General died, Sir.  Burned to ashes in a pit of Mako energy.  It…was mostly luck, Sir."

Andrews nodded solemnly, and sat back down.  "Thank you."  Most of the audience was now staring at Cloud.  Luck or not, **he'd been the one to kill the greatest SOLDIER ever produced.  Cloud saw fear, awe, and shock all around the room, and sank back into his chair a little.**

Reeve stepped in to fill the silence that had fallen.  "Further questions?  No?  Very well, now we move ahead to the recent past, starting with the activities of the group called AVALANCHE and ending with the defeat of 'Sephiroth' at the Northern Crater."

They took turns telling that portion of the past, whoever knew the most or whoever felt most like explaining doing the work.  It was obvious that it wasn't until AVALANCHE left Midgar that any of them realized Cloud had been the leader.  The group as a whole didn't know until the fight against Jenova BIRTH.  It had always simply been that way, and no one really had to assign leadership positions—Cloud had the closest ties to Sephiroth, therefore he became the leader.  The audience seemed a little surprised though, obviously assuming Barret had been the leader—since he led AVALANCHE—or maybe Cid—though he hadn't been present at the beginning—because of his rough but confident demeanor.  Quiet, unassuming Cloud had slid by under their radar.

At the end of everything, there was a long silence.  Some things had been purposely left out or glossed over to make things a little more understandable—for example, they never delved very deeply into just how disturbed Cloud had been, or why.  A lot of the Jenova stuff was left out, too, since **no** **one understood that very well.  They just pointed out that 'she' had been behind a lot of the recent craziness.  The silence as people digested what they'd been told was thick as anything Cloud could think of.  He imagined Ultima Weapon could really cut through it, but decided there was no reason to try.  Silence was good!  It was when the questions started up again that things would get painful all over.  It would be nice to stay in the grey area between painful explanation and painful question forever.**

Unfortunately, other people had other plans.

A man in a suit raised his hand.  Reeve acknowledged him with a nod.  "Mr. Brown."

'Mr. Brown' stood up.  "Um, 'scuse me.  How do we **know** Sephiroth isn't going to come back?  I mean he came back before, right?  And what about this Jenova thing?  It was a few thousand years old, and all, and locking it up didn't stop it, so how do we **know it's gone?"**

Reeve turned to look at the assembled warriors.  "Who wants this one?"

Nanaki gathered himself.  "I will begin, if I may?"  None of the warriors protested, though some of the crowd shifted uncomfortably at being addressed by the 'animal.'  They'd done it every other time Red had spoken, so Red had learned to disregard it…but that didn't mean he, or any of the others liked it.

"As previously mentioned, the 'Sephiroth' we fought was a clone of the original.  In truth, Sephiroth never came back at all.  It is highly unlikely that there are any other clones of Sephiroth out there waiting to take his place.  During the Reunion of Jenova, the primary Sephiroth clone killed all the others.  As for Jenova herself,"  Nanaki shrugged.  "We hope she is gone forever, though it may not be so.  This time, unlike when the Cetra made their last attempts to contain Jenova, we had the aid of the Lifestream and Holy to destroy her.  The Cetra had only a fraction of that power behind them at the time because of the large number of deaths Jenova had caused among them."

Brown shook his head.  "But how do we **know**?"

Cloud cut in.  "What do you want him to say, Mr. Brown?  Red XIII has given you the honest truth as far as we know it.  It took no less than a year for Hojo to create a clone of Sephiroth; longer if he wanted a very accurate, powerful clone; still longer if he started with a person with a strong will."  At the shock and confusion on Brown's face, Cloud smiled without humor.  "Oh, yes.  Hojo started with living human specimens, injected them with large quantities of Jenova cells, then irradiated them with Mako until they **glowed**.  The Jenova cells slowly transformed the original host's genetic pattern into a partial or complete copy of Sephiroth's and absorbed bits of personalities around the clone using the Lifestream.  The clone's resemblance to Sephiroth was dependent on both how precise a match to Sephiroth's DNA it attained, and how nearly its conglomerate personality matched Sephiroth's.  Twelve months of being rewritten like a hard-drive, and Hojo might have a functional clone.  However, he didn't have time to make any more after the Reunion.  The Sephiroth Clone we killed was probably the last."

Reeve frowned at him, puzzled.  "Cloud, I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about the mechanics of the creation of the clones."

Cloud shrugged.  "I don't know **why** you wouldn't know.  We all know how I fit into the picture, don't we?"  Cloud was referring to his own status as a partial clone, and Reeve realized it.  But the audience didn't need to know there was still one clone—failed or not—running loose in the world.

Reeve glanced at him.  "Why don't you tell our rapt audience, Mr. Strife?  Just so they know?"  It was the equivalent of Reeve demanding Cloud tell him what the hell was going on, while still remaining conscious of the eyes on them and the pretense of normalcy they were trying to project.

Cloud smiled.  "Of course.  I was a Specialist in the Mako Sciences before everything that happened.  It was my job to know a **lot** about Mako, most specifically its effects on living things."  Fortunately, everyone at the table managed to keep cool, so the people watching them had no idea how much of a revelation this was to the group.  Vincent and Red in particular kept their neutral expressions in place, even as their eyes blazed with emotion.  Cloud would have to talk to them later.  "That," he continued.  "Is why I was with Colonel Zack and General Sephiroth in Nibelheim.  My status as a Specialist Four in the Shinra Regular Army in the field of Mako Science made me ideally suited—professionally—to deal with a malfunctioning Mako Reactor and Mako monsters.  My familiarity with the region was an added bonus."

There was another of those long silences.  "Were there any further questions?" Reeve asked.  The silence held, so Reeve turned back to the assembled warriors.  "Well, if you want to go, you may.  The rest of this is a meeting to update everyone of the progress in rebuilding, and none of you have been around long enough to integrate yourselves into our little work structure, here.  I won't stop you if you want to stay, but it's likely to be boring."

Cloud stood.  He didn't see any need to linger, and he had a whole clutch of new memories, some rather disturbing—_Sephiroth smiling, falling silent to his death, though the Reactor had echoed with screams_—and all of them needed dealing with.  He was unsurprised to notice that everyone else rose also.  No one would want to linger.  They filed out silently, Cloud ignoring the stares some of his companions were giving him.  Suddenly, Barrett was in his face, and Cloud tensed, already dreading the questioning that was to come.  Just as suddenly, Cloud heard Colonel Andrews' voice ring clearly to him.

"Strife!"  Cloud turned and felt his posture automatically straighten into attention.

"Sir."

Andrews waved him into a more relaxed position, but Cloud was still tense.  Andrews was commander of the SOLDIER garrison here in Midgar—surely he was needed at the meeting?  As if reading his mind, Andrews smiled grimly.  "I have to get back to that meeting, so I'll make this brief.  First—damn it, boy!  You should have **told** me what happened!  Having to go up against Sephiroth like that…"  The man cut himself off, as though aware he could easily say too much here.  Although, too much of **what**, Cloud didn't know.

"Second, that took big brass ones to get up there and tell those people about everything.  I know you've left out a lot of the details, and I may ask about some of it later, but the point stands.  Third, I wanted you to know—you remember you were waiting on the results of that SOLDIER exam when you all left for Nibelheim, right?"  At Cloud's nod, he continued, a smile on his face.  "Well, SOLDIER, welcome to the club.  You passed right into SOLDIER Second-class purely by merit of your test scores.  Well, the fact that Zack and The General would have personally murdered anyone who tried to block you couldn't have hurt."  At Cloud's shocked expression, Andrews broke into a full grin.  "Wait!  It gets better!  On account of your efforts in Nibelheim, you were 'posthumously' awarded the rank of SOLDIER First-class."

Cloud stared dumbly at him.  /_Whaaaaat?!?!_/ a little portion of his mid gasped incredulously.  Then Andrews saluted him, a SOLDIER salute, and Cloud found himself returning the gesture.  Then Andrews stuck out a hand.  "Admittedly, Strife, it doesn't mean a whole lot—no actual rank is connected to a class promotion after death, so you're still technically ranked with amoebas and pond scum as far as the Company is concerned.  But I was there in Wutai, and so was Shimo, whose judgment I trust an awful lot.  Not to mention that Colonel Zack and The General would have done anything in their power to get you into SOLDIER.  I'd say you come rather highly recommended.  So if you want to get into things with SOLDIER and the reconstruction, I'd be delighted to offer you a place in our little family."

Cloud solemnly clasped Andrews' hand.  "Thank you, Sir.  I'll consider it."  Then he felt the corners of his lips twitch.  Andrews grinned in response.

"Go ahead, Strife.  I think we've all done it."

Given permission, Cloud tossed his hands out wide and pirouetted in place.  "I Made It!  HAHAHAHAHA!  Suck on **that**, Hojo!  I hope you're burning extra hot in hell right now, 'cause I made SOLDIER anyhow!  Yeeeeessss!!!!"

All of Cloud's friends pushed in around him, slapping his back, or hugging, or shaking hands.  Andrews excused himself and returned to the meeting, but Cloud was fairly lost in a sea of jubilation.  Despite all the support from his friends, though, he felt a certain emptiness inside.  Even with a piece of Zack sitting in his head, Cloud still felt like someone who should have been there was missing.  The victory rang hollow, though Cloud didn't really notice it until he laid down that night, in his bed, in his bedroom, in a far too empty house in the SOLDIER sector.

He cried himself to sleep that night, and tried to will the ache inside away.

*

All right, there it is!  Chapter Two!  I don't know why this chapter kept wanting to go on and on and on, but it did.  I think it's rather boring, since most of it is just a sort of game-events recap.  The only big things are that Cloud made SOLDIER after all, but isn't so happy about it as he should be; Cloud's been offered a place in SOLDIER's current activities; and the stuff with the TURKs.

Anyhow, thanks for reading!  The next part will be better, honest!

As always, comments, questions, and concerns are welcome!  Email me or click the review button…or both!  Thanks to all who've reviewed so far—you keep me going, even when the muse is being a turd.


	3. Playing Doctor

Hi!

Once again, the procrastination bug strikes.  I'm sorry about the wait on this one, guys, but I think this is a great part.  I'm really proud of it.  Thanks for reading, and more notes on the bottom.

*

"Come on.  It's okay.  Don't cry; I'm here."

Cloud huddled miserably under the thin sheets on his bed, clutching the pillow to his chest.  At the voice, though, he turned over.  "Sephiroth…?"

Bright green eyes looked back at him, set in a pale face, wreathed by silver hair.  It was obviously Sephiroth, but the smile on his face was so different from any expression he'd ever seen on him before.  One strong hand, gloveless, stole up to touch his cheek.

"Hey.  You going to be okay?"

Cloud scowled.  "Why would you care?"  He started to turn away, but Sephiroth held him still.  A frown now furrowed his brow, and he stared right into Cloud's eyes, searching them for something.

"Oh…" he hissed, anger, concern, and understanding touching his features.  "You don't remember, do you?  By Holy, when I get my hands on Hojo, he is going to regret what he's done to you!"

Cloud shrugged, averting his eyes.  He was terribly confused, and very uncomfortable with their proximity.  "Hojo's dead.  I killed him myself."

Sephiroth shrugged in return.  "That just makes it a little harder to get to him.  It won't stop me."  Then Sephiroth smiled again, and ruffled his hair.  "Don't worry about it—you just worry about yourself, for now.  I hope—" he sighed.  "I **really** hope your memory comes back soon, Cloud."

Cloud woke slowly.  He'd had another of those weird dreams again, the ones about Sephiroth.  This one had been much clearer than the previous one; it felt almost real.  Oddly, he hadn't felt particularly threatened in the dream.  Sephiroth hadn't scared him, had made no threatening moves, had done nothing but speak softly to him and hold him gently.  Cloud wondered about the embrace he had been in what had to be most of the night.  Why would Sephiroth hold him so?  Why would it seem familiar?  Why would he allow it?

And why the hell had he again left a space beside him in his sleep for someone else to lay?  Cloud had two sleep modes—sprawled untidily all over everywhere, or sitting up and taking only a little space.  This pick-a-side-of-the-bed-and-stick-to-it behavior was **highly** unusual.  He was confused and wanted answers.

Unfortunately, like the previous time, Cloud found he had none, and had to shake himself out of thinking about it.  As he sat up and stretched, Cloud had to admit he had slept extremely well, abnormalities in positioning and all.  Rising out of bed, Cloud padded down the hall to Zack's room to borrow more clothes.  Today it was a set of black jeans and a plain white t-shirt.  He also borrowed Zack's jean jacket.  It was a comfortable ensemble, but tough and workable.  If he was going to do any helping with the reconstruction today, he'd need the sturdy clothes.  He went with his uniform gloves and boots—they were comfortable and sturdy, too.

Stepping out into the morning light, Cloud set off down the street in search of someplace he could grab some food.  He had been so preoccupied last night he hadn't even eaten dinner.  Now, his quick metabolism, further boosted by his Mako enhancements, meant he was paying for it—his stomach felt like it was trying to eat its way out of him.

"Hey, Strife!"

Cloud turned at the voice to see Art, Reggie, and Ricky of the Thirteenth Street gang walking down the street behind him; they'd obviously turned onto it from a side-street.  Artemis's arm was raised in a wave, and it was obviously she who had called out, but Ricky and Reggie were ear-to-ear grins, too.  Cloud stilled his feet and waited until they caught up, smiling as well, and offering greetings.

"Sleep well, Strife?"  Ricky asked.  "You better have to be up this early!  It takes a good hour to walk here from the nearest places below."

Cloud shrugged.  "I slept well enough, but I'm living up here anyway."

"Oh, yeah?"  Reggie asked.  "Where at?"

"Home."  Cloud rolled his eyes at their continuing ignorance.  "You guys **do** know I was living with Zack and Sephiroth before, right?  Seems they left me everything, so I'm living out of the house.  And thank Holy for that!  I'm wearing Zack's clothes because they're all I have that will fit!  His closet is sparing the lot of you **quite** the show."

The three of them laughed, and Cloud with them.  He stopped suddenly when his stomach growled loudly enough to turn all three pairs of eyes toward his midsection.  He blushed.

"What?  I forgot to eat last night."

Artemis poked him in the ribs.  "You're waaaaay too skinny to be missing meals, Strife.  I mean, you were always slim and short, but now you're a toothpick.  It's not an eating disorder, is it?"

Cloud smiled bitterly.  "Yeah, it is.  It's called 'Hojo-induced starvation syndrome.'  Anyone who spends time in his lab as a specimen is at risk for HISS."  At their suddenly angry expressions, Cloud waved them down.  "Don't worry about it, guys.  I'm fine.  I've gained a lot since I escaped…what…six months ago?  You don't just shrug off five years of under- and malnourishment.  But I'm okay.  Actually, I  was hoping to find someplace with food, this morning."

Ricky smiled, accepting Cloud's explanation easiest.  "Well, you're with the right crew, Strife.  Since SOLDIERs have high metabolisms, we get slightly higher food allocations than most, right now.  Stick around, and we'll make sure you get some grub."

Reggie smirked.  "Yeah, but we can't say anything about the quality of the food you'll be getting.  I mean, the idiots actually recruited **Art** to do some cooking—ow!"

Artemis smiled happily, dusting off her hands.  "That's for being a prick.  And I can cook.  I even like to.  I just think the bastards were being sexist shitheads when they picked me to do it—**no one** knew I cooked, save Maria, and that's because she was my roommate for a while.  Holy, I love that woman.  Not many straight girls that have no problem rooming with an open lesbian."

Ricky shrugged.  "Cap Johnson was like that with everything, though.  Too bad she's out in Costa del Sol, right now.  Her grace under pressure would be great right now.  I think the stress is giving Cap Syracuse grey hairs—and he's not hot like Maria!"

Cloud listened to their happy banter all the way down the street.  It was amazing; the world had nearly ended, the biggest population center on the Planet had been nearly destroyed, and rebuilding was a full time commitment full of pain and weariness and struggle.  Yet, despite it all, people were on the upswing again, making the most of things and finding happiness in even the simplest things.  It made Cloud feel good, like all that had been lost or sacrificed had meaning.  It seemed Aeris's faith in humanity was borne out.  There was a time he would have doubted, but seeing this, and the shadows of memory he was regaining (particularly about the Wutai uprising and the five years spent in Hojo's care) made him believe maybe people were worth something after all.

Shaking himself from his contemplative mood, Cloud found himself in front of the SOLDIER mess hall.  It made sense to get grub here, but for some reason he hadn't been expecting it.  So much of Midgar had been savaged by Meteor, so why did it seem like the SOLDIER sector had hardly been touched?  Maybe the Mako…?  But the Reactors had experienced power surges due to Meteor's proximity.  Similar surges might have had some effect on the SOLDIER population, as well.  Were there more cases of Mako poisoning than usual…?

"Hey, Strife, you all right?"

Cloud jerked his gaze up to Art's worried expression.  "Oh…yeah.  I'm fine."

Cloud darted ahead and held the door for his companions.  They laughed, and Art cooed at his 'gentlemanly conduct,' but allowed him to do it.  Once inside, some of the SOLDIERs gave him suspicious looks, but his company spared him the worst.  He grabbed a bowl of oatmeal, loaded with fruit, extra sugar, honey, and milk, as well as an orange and a carton of juice.  The four of them sat at the table, shoveling their meals in.  Cloud was startled when Artemis dumped half of her extra bagel beside him.  He looked questioningly at her.  She smiled sheepishly.

"You need it more than I do.  Besides, we all know that I have a slow metabolism—for a SOLDIER, anyway.  If not for the Mako, I'd be seriously battling the bulge, you know?"

Cloud looked at her a moment longer to be sure she was serious, then tore into it with a grateful mumble.  Food was **good**.  He hadn't realized how nice it was to eat real food instead of the slop they'd eaten on the trip to save the Planet.  They'd settled for whatever the inns they stayed at served and the canned goods they'd been able to carry with them on the road.  Funnily, Cid had turned out to be the best cook of the lot, Tifa and Vincent close behind.  (Tifa was understandable, having worked in a bar, but Cid and Vincent's culinary skills were somewhat more mysterious.)  Yuffie and Barrett cooked passably, and Cait and Red were barely survivable, the absence of opposable thumbs (in Red's case) and taste-buds (in Cait's case) complicating cooking a lot.

Suddenly, all three others jumped up.  Cloud looked around to find Colonel Andrews headed their way.  Belatedly, he also rose; he'd been so intent on stuffing his face he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings.  He mentally berated himself, making sure his lips remained sealed instead of running off on him again.

Andrews smiled at them and gestured for them to sit back down.  They did, and he pulled up a chair beside Cloud.

"Morning, Strife."

"Good morning, Sir."

Andrews smiled.  "You given any more thought to joining SOLDIER for real?"

Cloud sighed.  "Actually, Sir, I hadn't.  Well, not much.  I'd like to—it's been my dream for so long, and it's a place I could do a lot of good.  I know people here, and I'm comfortable in the job, but…  I've kind of gotten used to being without a chain of command, calling my own shots, and doing things my own way; I'm not sure how well I'd manage to reintegrate into military life.  I don't want to be a burden, and I don't want anyone making exceptions for me."

Andrews laughed.  "Do you have any idea how ridiculous that is, Strife?"  Cloud blinked, confused.  Andrews leaned close.  "Listen, Strife.  The minute Colonel Zack took an interest in you, you were an exception.  He saw great potential in you, and wanted to make sure that SOLDIER got all of that potential.  Then you became his friend, and The General's, too.  When you came to Xi-Fe-Xiu, we all got a heads-up.  It was all over how Zack's little prodigy was coming down, and that he'd shot-put the severed head of any fool who crossed you.  If he could pry The General off the offender before he diced him."

Andrews gave Cloud a moment to absorb that, then continued.  "If you join us, yeah, I expect you to follow orders.  The great thing about SOLDIER, though, is that you can act **without** orders.  The Regulars need orders to take a piss, but SOLDIER is supposed to be more flexible and independent than that.  There are those who require supervision, but generally we need talented individuals with their wits about them.  If you get a direct order, do as you're told; if you don't have orders, do what you think needs to be done.  You're accountable, certainly, but I think you're competent enough not to screw up."

The others were nodding in fervent agreement, and Cloud frowned, falling into deep thought.  He could still turn this down.  He could escape.  He could be his own master, nobody telling him what to do, under any circumstances…

"How long do you want me for, Sir?"

Andrews smiled hugely, hearing the acquiescence in Cloud's voice.  "As long as you'll let me have you, Strife.  We're desperate for help, and this is a time of crisis, so I won't impose a minimum service period.  Hell, your Mako didn't come out of SOLDIER's pocketbook, and neither did your training, really, so it'd actually be wrong to require you to stick around."

Cloud nodded solemnly.  "I'll try to stick it through until Midgar's at least back on its feet.  After that, I'll make no promises.  But…  Sir, I'd like to join SOLDIER."

Andrews ditched his smile, becoming perfectly serious.  "I accept your offer of service, Cloud Strife.  I'd like to be the first to officially welcome you to SOLDIER.  And…"  Andrews fished around in his pocket a moment, before pulling out a small black box.  "As of this moment, you are Lieutenant of SOLDIER Cloud Strife.  SOLDIER First-class has always been the officer corps of our little section of the military.  Once I promoted you out of the **very** rarely used 'SOLDIER First-class trainee' position, you were an officer.  I can't promote you any higher than this, though, even if you deserve at the very least a Captaincy.  Sorry."

Cloud shook his head, dismissing Andrews's apology, slowly reaching out to take the proffered box.  All too aware of his shaking hands, Cloud cracked the box, and ran a gloved fingertip reverently over the silver crescent moon inside.

"Lieutenant…!" he gasped softly as reality finally struck.  He jerked his gaze back to Andrews, who nodded firmly, as if knowing how much Cloud needed to be told this was real.  He was still half-convinced he would wake up in Hojo's clear tank any minute, but Andrews comforted him a lot.

Andrews stood.  "Sometime today, go see the outfitter to get a real uniform for formal events.  Zack's old uniforms or casual clothes like you have on are suitable for the current work.  Holy knows we haven't the time to stand on formality.  At 0900 tomorrow, report to the Sector One-Two Gate; you'll meet your command there."  Cloud nodded dumbly as Andrews started to leave.  "Oh, and Strife?  Congrats and welcome to the family."

*

Cloud caught himself chewing his lip and stopped immediately.  He didn't want to betray his anxiety, but he was extremely nervous.  He hoped his 'command' would be good for him—just last week he had been convinced he was just a normal guy thrown into a whole lot of shit.  Now he was a SOLDIER First-class with some people he was going to be in charge of, and had apparently been close friends with not just a Colonel in SOLDIER, but The General, too.  No tests, no previous command experience—unless you counted AVALANCHE, which hadn't really been his, anyway—and still horribly tired from tromping all over the Planet to take on a damn convincing clone of Sephiroth.

Cloud sent a swift prayer to the universe at large as he neared the Sector One-Two Gate.  /_Please.  If there is anyone out there looking out for me, **please** let this go well._/  

As he came within sight of the Gate, Cloud got his first glimpse of his command.  They stood casually about, in well-worn, color-coded uniforms. Most were SOLDIER Second-class, with only a few Third-class here and there—a highly unusual distribution.  They also all carried black bags of about brief-case size…Cloud's heart leapt to his throat when he realized they were Mako diagnostic kits, some for use on mechanical devices, some for use on living things.  Every one of his 'men'—there were two women also in the unit, another unusually high proportion—wore rank insignia indicating some more specialized training.  SOLDIER had never been able to have the sheer number of specialties the Regulars could, but Cloud got the feeling this was most of Midgar's Mako-trained SOLDIER population.

Cloud approached the gaggle of SOLDIERs, watching as they all began to look up at him.  His un-coded uniform made him obvious to them.  He approached the one who wore the highest rank insignia—the four silver bars of a fourth level Warrant Officer, which SOLDIER had taken to calling Senior Warrant Officers.  The SWO just happened to be one of the women.  She saluted as he drew near, eyes flicking to his crescent-moon lieutenant's insignia as she did so.  Behind her, the other SOLDIERs saluted, too.  Cloud returned the salute, and everyone relaxed a bit.

The woman stuck her hand out.  "Hello, Sir.  I'm SWO Eikins, and it looks like I'm gonna be your senior non-com around here."

Cloud met her handclasp, distantly aware of her powerful grip, but as enhanced as he was, it barely meant anything to him.  He nodded in response to her statement, and responded.  "SWO.  Everyone."  He stepped back to look at the whole group.  "I'm Lieutenant Strife.  Lieutenant as of **yesterday** Strife.  Colonel Andrews didn't tell me a single thing about what our mission is, but given that everyone has a Mako kit of some description, I'm thinking we're either hitting the reactor, or the hospital.  Feel free to enlighten me if you know any better."

SWO Eikins nodded.  "You're half-right, Sir.  We **are** going to the clinic.  We've only got so many bio-Mako kits though, so some had to make due with tech-Mako kits.  We're supposed to go treat the Mako-poisoning cases in the clinic, especially those amongst SOLDIERs.  We need the manpower back, Sir, and with a sizable chunk of SOLDIER down with Green Syndrome…we just don't have it."

Cloud nearly shuddered.  Only half his team had what they needed to do what they had to do, and the rest were just squeaking by with whatever they could get.  Of course, he could congratulate himself on predicting the increased occurrence of Mako poisoning in SOLDIER, but somehow he just didn't feel vindicated.  Just depressed.  He straightened, though, forcing himself to project an air of confidence.

"All right then, people!  We'd best be on our way.  We have some lazy co-workers to kick out of bed."  The group chuckled and straggled in the direction of the clinic.  Cloud made eye-contact with SWO Eikins, who looked grimly back at him.  She knew how grim things were, too.

It was going to be a difficult day.

*

Cloud shook his head as he once again gave out a pair of very powerful, **not** Mako-based painkillers and put another cold compress on another feverish brow.  It was simply **amazing** how ill-prepared they were for this.  They had supplies only to treat those with the worst cases of Mako poisoning, those unconscious, comatose, or hovering near death.  But that left all the others who were suffering anything from moderate flu-like symptoms, to wrenching muscle spasms and hyper-sensitized nerves.

Mako poisoning was relatively common in the modern day.  Little kids who messed around with the major appliances in their homes could get it—in fact, most did, at some point.  However, it usually just resulted in a headache and mild fever for a few hours, and raised the patient's Mako tolerance.  That way, they'd never get sick from such a low dose of Mako again.  It was similar to chickenpox, and most parents didn't have any trouble with it any more; just one more childhood sickness to look out for.

Mako poisoning, as it was usually thought of, was just a more severe reaction to Mako energy, resulting from a higher dose or longer exposure.  The thing about Mako poisoning was that you never got better—your body never kicked out the thing that made you ill, never 'beat the bug.'  Either your body's ability to handle Mako rose to a level suited to the Mako in your system, or you spent the rest of your life sick…if you survived at all.  That was why SOLDIER testing was so rigorous; if your body couldn't handle the Mako, you were just a waste of resources.

Green Syndrome was the name given to Mako sickness in SOLDIERs.  It was so named because a SOLDIER who contracted Green Syndrome almost always was left with green eyes, regardless of the color they had been before, and always saw things tinted slightly green.  It was only an outward manifestation of all the Mako suspended in the patient's system, though.  Above the concentrations of Mako that made a SOLDIER a SOLDIER, the Mako energy in a SOLDIER's body ceased to be a light that simply shone through the original color of the SOLDIER's eyes—instead it became so concentrated that its own color shone through, overpowering all but the very darkest of eyes.

Cloud recalled reading in one of Hojo's journals that Sephiroth had been exposed to concentrations of Mako in the womb equal to those required to cause Green Syndrome.  As he had grown, his biomass had started to drown out the Mako, and his eyes had paled first to blue, then to grey.  To keep that highly concentrated environment, Hojo had regularly given him more Mako to keep up with his growth rate.  By the time he was an adult and stopped growing, his eyes had permanently appeared green.  However, his body was long used to such amounts of Mako, and he suffered no adverse effects.  As a child, it must have been torture.

At roughly double the body weight-to-Mako ratio that caused Green Syndrome, spontaneous, uncontrollable mutation began.  Well, systemic mutation did, anyway; cells mutated all the time, it was **organismal** mutation that Mako caused, unlike most other mutagens, which worked on a cellular level.  Further, after a certain point, all that Mako shorted cells out and they stopped life processes…without dying.  The Shinra Science Department had experimented for years with a form of cryogenics based on the so-called 'Mako overload' theory.  There were all kinds of problems with it functionally, though.  First, that the pressures at which that kind of Mako concentration occurred were practically those needed to make Materia…more than enough to pulp the hapless specimen.  Second, that they had to shut the cells down **quickly**, or they would absorb the Mako and die.  If you managed to shut the living cell down fast enough, it didn't absorb much Mako, a necessity, since you could never be rid of the Mako afterward.  Too slow, and once you brought the cell out of stasis (assuming it survived the pressure) it would have enough Mako in it to mutate crazily until it expired.

Yuck.

Of course, there were a few ways to bring down Mako count by a tiny bit.  That was what they were using on the truly ill SOLDIERs, right now.  It was kind of like osmosis—water moves from areas of high concentration to areas of low concentration.  So the bio-Mako kits had these discs that looked a lot like slate, that were put in a dialysis machine.  The patient's blood was pumped through the machine, where the Mako settled out on the disc, while the blood kept moving.  It was drastic—it was freakin' dialysis, after all!—but it was usually enough to keep a patient in serious danger from dying.

Aside from 'the little black disc method,' all that modern medicine could do was treat the symptoms of Green Syndrome and give supplements to help the body adjust to all the extra Mako playing merry havoc with a patient's system.  Well, they could keep all other sources of Mako away, too, which was pissing Cloud off, since no one could even tell him how all these people got poisoned, or why them and not their bunkmates on the other side of their quarters, or the rest of their details, or their 'in house' lovers.  Cloud didn't like the thought of some source of Mako poisoning out there, unremarked, undescribed, and unknown.

There wasn't a heck of a lot he could do about it, though, so with the ease of one long used to being helpless, Cloud simply accepted it.  For now.  His mind was already attempting to narrow down the possibilities; he kept returning to the surging Mako Reactors, but he had no way to figure out what was going on yet.  He would have to be patient.  In the meantime, it was getting late; technically his team would have gone off shift an hour and a half ago, but he hadn't been able to drag himself away.  Now, though, he was more than ready to plod back up to the top of the Plate and crash at home.  Of course, that involved hiking back up the Plate, and if he didn't eat tonight, he'd be sorry for it tomorrow.

Holy, he hadn't realized how great trains had been when riding them had been an option.  He would kill for a ticket on an evening train to the Plate, right about now.

Sighing, Cloud made one last pass of the Mako ward.  He checked on the handful of patients that would be on disc therapy overnight, and changed a few cold compresses before turning to head out.  Just before he exited the Mako ward, though, he felt a buzzing in the back of his awareness, like a milder form of the disorientation that accompanied Jenova blackouts.  He looked up again and found himself in the very back of the Mako ward, standing at the door of a private room.

The door was slightly ajar.

Glancing around to be sure no one saw him, Cloud entered cautiously.  If his Mako or—Holy protect him—Jenova cells were reacting to something in here, he **had** to check it out.  The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood on end, raising goosebumps and sending a convulsive shudder through him to his very boots.  Something in here was definitely **not right**.

Cloud approached the bed, sucking in a breath as he caught sight of the man upon it.  Looking pale and small, and hooked up to all manner of life support equipment and monitors of every possible function was Reno.

As in, the TURK.

As in Mr. Larger-than-life 'I'm invincible' Reno.

He looked like he weighed about ten pounds more than Cloud had when he escaped from Hojo.  His cheeks were sunken, and his skin pale unto translucence.  His scarlet hair only made his ghost-like appearance all the more startling, and the hospital issue sheets did absolutely nothing for his complexion.

Cloud stumbled over to the foot of the unconscious TURK's bed, fumbling for his chart.  Cloud's specialty had been in Mako's effects on living things, which necessarily included a lot of medical applications.  He wasn't quite a medical doctor or nurse, but he knew more than enough to read a chart.  What he saw wasn't reassuring.

Apparently, Reno had been admitted just after the clinic had been set up.  He was pretty much comatose, only occasionally rising into the realm of sleep, and when he did sleep, it was accompanied by delirious dreaming.  He'd pulled his IVs (and other, even less comfortable tubing) out several times in his delirium, until they had been forced to restrain him whenever his coma seemed to lighten.  And, surprise, surprise—his condition seemed to be caused by Mako poisoning from an unknown source, of unknown intensity, for an unknown duration…  This was **really** starting to piss Cloud off.

"Hey!" a voice suddenly exclaimed from behind him.  Cloud whirled on suddenly battle-ready reflexes, containing himself only at the last moment.  The man in the doorway continued, bright blue-green eyes glaring at him.  "Just what do you think you're doing in here?  The SOLDIERs are down the other way, and anyway, shouldn't you all have cleared out…by…now?"  The man, about Cloud's age, trailed off, staring at his face before drawing in a breath.  "Cloud?"

Cloud groaned.  Not **another** person who knew him that he didn't remember!  As soon as he thought that, though, memory sprang fluidly to mind.  A semester of classes together, earrings as a graduation present, a full-contact kiss on a street corner on the Midgar University Campus.  His eyes widened.  "…Galen?  Holy…is it you?"

The taller red-head laughed and crossed the space between them, flinging long, slim arms around Cloud's neck.  "Cloud!  Oh, Planet, it's been forever!  What are you doing here?  Did you make SOLDIER after all?  I thought—" the other man's exuberance died down a little.  "I thought they said you were dead.  You, General Sephiroth, and Colonel Zack."

Cloud shook his head.  "That, my friend, is a long story.  One I have told far too many times this week.  I'll tell you, but later.  First, I want to know what you're doing here, and why you're standing guard over Reno of the TURKs."  He glanced at Reno on the bed, then studied Galen's face intently.  "…You're related, aren't you?"

Galen sighed.  "Listen, Cloud.  I don't want to talk about this here.  I go off shift in half an hour, though, so if you want to meet up someplace private…I'll bring the alcohol.  I'd suggest the pub, but it's rather populated at this time of day."

Cloud nodded slowly.  "Okay.  Sure thing, Galen.  We'll hit my place…assuming you can make it onto the Plate?  Or would you prefer yours?"

Galen smiled a tight, forced smile.  "My home was pretty much destroyed when Meteor came.  Almost killed my youngest brother.  I've been living in communal quarters ever since."

Cloud nodded decisively.  "My place it is, then.  I'll help you get the alcohol, then we'll walk there together.  They might not let you into the SOLDIER sector without a chaperone.  Idiots."

Galen nodded.  "Okay.  I'll meet you out front in thirty minutes, then."  With the air of a busy professional, Galen bustled out of the room, pausing in the doorway just long enough to say quietly, "It really is great to see you again, Cloud."

"You, too, Galen," Cloud whispered in return.  "You, too."

*

                Hi, again!

                I hope everyone liked the part.  Cloud accepted into SOLDIER and got assigned duties and other people to work with.  Hey, it's the military, more or less; can't do whatever you want **all** the time!  *grin*  And now Cloud's met up with Galen, again, after all these years and discovered where Reno's been.  TO ANYONE WHO HASN'T READ _SCENIC ROUTE TO THE PROMISED LAND_: now would be a good time to do so.  I'll include a brief synopsis at the beginning of the next part, but that's mostly because _Scenic Route_ is incomplete.  It won't really say much, so, if it's even a little possible, please visit one or both of the sites currently hosting it and at least skim through.  The timelines are converging, so a little background info really will enhance the experience.

                So yeah.  Next part, expect the _Scenic Route_ synopsis, a conversation with Galen, Cloud thinking over some of the more recent revelations, and perhaps another Sephiroth dream.  If you have any comments, questions, concerns, or whatever, just drop me a line!  I'd love to hear from you all!  I'd also like to thank those who have reviewed so far.  You really are the biggest reason this thing got out as soon as it did.  Thanks so much!

                --Akuma no Tsubasa


	4. Secrets and Promises

Hi!

Ooh, look, another update!  Ain't it great?  The muse has been cracking the whip, a little, and I'm SO glad for it.

Anyway…for those of you who didn't read _Scenic Route to the Promised Land_, a quick 'n' dirty synopsis is included at the end of the part.  Those who have read the story proper may wish to take a peek, too, since it includes some stuff that _Scenic Route_ isn't up to yet.

Like to thank Nate for his beta read.  (I'm still working on that rewrite of _TFTMW_, just for you! ^_^)  I'd also like to thank all the wonderful people who've taken time to review for me!  "Reviewer of the part" for Chapter 3 goes to Dark Ice Angel for telling me **exactly** what (s)he liked about the part.  Dearie, you **must** be telepathic.  Some of the questions you asked are being answered in this part, and most of the rest are answered in the next.  Feel free to tell me what you like on this one, too!

And with that, **on to the fic**!

*

Cloud sat quietly on a stool at the kitchen table an empty shotglass before him, gazing levelly at Galen, who was still nursing a beer.  Now done with his part of the story of what had happened since they'd last seen each other, Cloud was waiting for Galen to begin.  He'd been a bit more honest and a bit more complete with Galen than he'd been with pretty much anyone else, but it seemed the right way to do things.  Even though it had hurt to talk about some things, he'd done it, and taken comfort in the supportive presence of an old friend.

Finally, Galen looked up.  "Well, you know about Jamie…Reno, I guess he calls himself.  He's my older brother, the one who supported me and my brothers through childhood and paid for our schooling.  Raythan and Andrew call him 'Daddy' most of the time; it's not like they can remember our real father.  Oh, they know he's their brother, but he took a father-like role for them for a long time, and when he left, he still sent us money and whatever else we needed, like a dad who just has to work all the time to make ends meet.  I…hadn't known he joined the TURKs, but I did know that whatever he was doing was a little shady.  And I missed him.  Imagine my shock when he just showed up at home the day Meteor fell, and begged us to leave."

Cloud's face must have registered his shock—_Reno, **beg**?_—because Galen smiled slightly.  "Yeah.  It was weird.  He told us to leave the house, that it wasn't safe.  I'll confess, I was a bit…upset with him.  Especially when he shows up after seven years with no real face-to-face contact with a kid hanging onto him, and demanding we leave our home.  I told him to leave, and Holy, how he tried to make me change my mind.  Finally, he said if we were going to stay, to at least stay in the northwest corner of the first bedroom.  I scoffed at him, slammed the door in his face, then listened to him try to explain to the poor confused kid what had happened.  I didn't know Reno had a son.  Planet, but the kid certainly didn't take after Reno.  I heard him say they were going down to a church in one of the other Sectors, that they'd be safe there."

Galen laughed almost bitterly.  "When Meteor came down, it was like the world was ending.  The house was shaking itself apart around us, and the wind was howling, and Andrew was screaming he was so scared.  I remembered Reno's warning to us, to stay in the bedroom, so I got everyone up and in there.  Not a minute later, I heard the walls giving way in the living area.  A little while after that, I saw the south wall collapse—the other side of that was the other bedroom.  Pieces of the roof were coming down; one hit Andrew on the head—concussed him pretty good.  A piece of flying debris gouged me in the leg, and another broke Raythan's left arm.  I thought we were going to die, and cursed myself for not listening to Jamie—he always **knew** these things even after…  

"But, so, there I am, making peace with the world and cursing my stupidity, arrogance, and temper when everything just…stops.  We look up through a hole in the roof—hell, the roof was more hole than roof, by that point—and we're looking out at the Lifestream boiling out of the Planet and racing toward Meteor.  I hear Holy was involved, and I believe it, but I certainly never laid eyes on it.  We just huddled there until the Lifestream disappeared, then started digging out of the sorry corpse of our little shack.  There was hardly anything we could salvage right off, but we did what we could.  I took care of all our injuries, and we took what we could—some Materia, a few trinkets we might be able to pawn off, some pots and pans, any food and bedding, everything that might be useful.  Then we camped out by the remains while rescue workers started setting up the clinic, housing, and what have you.

"I guess it was about the third day when the kid showed up.  I felt really bad; I hadn't even thought about Reno since what happened.  The kid introduced himself as 'Taka' and said he needed help because his 'daddy' wouldn't wake up.  He led us through all the wreckage to this rundown old church.  That old thing hadn't a mark of Meteor strain on it.  There was a little shack right next to it, equally untouched, that Taka led us into.  And there was Reno, unconscious, not a mark on him, full to the gills with Mako from no discernible source.

"So I brought him here as soon as I could, and tried **everything** to bring his Mako count down.  And it worked with the usual success…but he still didn't wake up.  I think maybe the Mako had something to do with it, but the Mako couldn't have been the problem, or he'd have woken up by now."

Cloud shifted.  He'd listened attentively to Galen's story, but something was just not adding up.  "Galen," he said and waited until he had the red-head's attention.  When Galen looked up, he continued sternly.  "What aren't you telling me?  You know something more that you just won't reveal.  I can't help if I don't know the facts."

Galen studied him for several long moments.  "Look, Cloud.  You have to understand, this isn't something we talk about.  In fact, it's something we avoid like plague.  I have to know that…well, if I tell you this, this better not go anywhere, you understand.  We could be in deep shit with Hojo and Shinra Science if anyone finds out."

Cloud nodded solemnly.  "I understand, but Galen, Hojo is dead.  You don't have to worry about him finding out."

Galen sighed.  "No, just whoever takes over for him.  I'm glad that monster's gone, though."  The red-head was silent for long moments before looking up at Cloud again.  "Cloud, I'm…we're…what do you know about Cetra?"

Cloud's eyebrows raced for his hairline.  No shit, the guy was worried about Hojo.  The bastard would have dissected them if he'd known.  "I know enough, I think.  I had a friend who was one.  She died while summoning Holy.  We met in that church, and we saved her from Hojo once, too.  I know they were the keepers of the Planet, and I know the Calamity, the Virus drove them to the brink of extinction two thousand years ago."

Galen shivered and looked solemnly at him.  "Then you know why this was the strictest of secrets.  Jamie took a different name, a different identity, and gave us new ones, too, just to keep us safe.  If anyone discovered what he was, they'd never be able to trace us through him.  Not that it was likely that someone would find out through him.  He didn't display any of the usual abilities by the time he joined the Shinra.  He'd killed by then; we never talked about it, but we knew.  Suddenly, the strongest of the four of us is as blind, deaf, and dumb to the Lifestream as anybody else—of course we knew what happened."

Cloud frowned.  "You mind enlightening me?"

Galen sighed.  "Cetra are always talked about as a peaceful people, happily tending the earth and living things.  That wasn't because they were necessarily any more enlightened or peaceful than the rest of the population of the Planet.  It was because killing another aware organism literally **hurt** them through the Lifestream.  And more than that, it stripped them of a chunk of their extra senses.  Say goodbye to telepathy, empathy, heightened magical sensitivity, the ability to hear and communicate with the Planet…everything that made a Cetra different from your average human being, torn painfully away for the crime of killing.

"Jamie was," Galen hesitated.  "He was always the strongest of us.  He heard more, knew more, could do more than anyone else.  Hell, he was probably the single strongest Cetra alive on the Planet, at the time.  More powerful by far than your flower girl friend, even—may she find her Promised Land.  Even after killing that first time, Jamie could still do some things, small things; mostly, he just had hunches, gut feelings that very seldom led him astray, though he was careful to keep them under wraps.

"The biggest thing to realize about this sensory loss is that it's not permanent.  A Cetra who kills once regains his senses slowly as his mind and the Lifestream heal together again.  One who kills repeatedly and stops gets better, too.  If Jamie were to never kill again, maybe, in a few months' time, he'd be every bit as powerful as he ever was.  Of course, he was with the TURKs—not precisely a job in which you can just stop killing.  I heard…  I heard he was responsible for the Sector Seven Plate coming down.  Blind to the Lifestream or not, he is Cetra, and the Planet would have made sure he felt **some** sort of backlash from that.  He probably knows exactly how many people he killed doing that.  I just hope that, now that the Shinra is gone, he can stop.  That people will let him.  All he did, he did for us, even at the expense of his own life, his own happiness, his own sanity."

Cloud frowned when Galen said no more.  It sounded like he'd left something hanging, but Cloud didn't want to pry any further.  It was apparent the red-head was distressed, and Cloud didn't want to hurt him.  Instead, he decided to give Galen a little bit about Reno's life.

"You know," he began, pausing until Galen looked up.  "He **does** have friends.  The TURKs are a tiny sub-community within the Shinra.  Main-line TURKs like Reno have only numbered three for the past two decades, and back-ups and second-stringers only run maybe a couple dozen.  Out of the whole Company, there are only ever maybe three dozen people at a time who can rightfully claim to be a TURK.  And TURKs stick together.

"For sure, I know that Elena and Rude have been turning over rocks—literally—looking for Reno ever since Meteor came down and they got no word from him.  I know Elena's been worried they'll find his body somewhere.  She was hired when he was down right after the Sector Seven Plate…  Brought the main-line TURKs up to four.  She mentioned to one of my friends—who can't keep her mouth shut, and of course told me—that things between Elena and Reno had been strained because he might have thought they were looking to replace him.  Seems they came together after Tseng died.  And Rude was apparently his best friend.  I know you're doing all you can for him, but maybe they'd like to know about his condition.  Or at least know that he's alive."

Galen sighed softly, but didn't say anything.  He avoided Cloud's gaze.  Cloud sighed, too.  "Well, think about it, Galen.  You don't have to make your mind up right away, of course.  It seems you have plenty of time."

Just then, there was a knock on the door.  Cloud rose.  "Excuse me for a moment.  I ought to go see who that is.  Back in a flash."  Galen nodded, taking a sip of his beer and arranging himself more comfortably on his stool.  He seemed to be in deep thought, so Cloud padded quietly off to the door.

Colonel Andrews stood there, a small smile on his face.  "Hello, Lieutenant.  I was on my way over here to see how your first day went, when I ran into this little one."  Andrews gestured downward to the solemn, dark-haired child beside him.  The child was maybe ten, black-haired, dark eyes set in a Wutaian slant, pale skinned with a vaguely exotic tint to it.  Cloud nodded a greeting, and the serious boy nodded back.  Andrews continued.  "He couldn't tell me the address of the place he was going, but he led me right to here.  You know him?"

Cloud looked at the child again, started to shake his head, then stopped.  "Are you Taka?" he asked.  The child nodded.  Cloud reflected that Galen had been right—the boy definitely didn't look like Reno in even the vaguest sense, except in Reno's Wutaian blood.  "Are you looking for Galen?"  Again the child nodded.  Cloud stepped back inside.  "Come on in, then; both of you, if you don't mind, Colonel."

Andrews smiled.  "Mind.  Not at all.  I can smell you have some alcohol in there; I'd be glad to liberate some from you.  Alcohol is so expensive these days, and it takes so much to get buzzed as a SOLDIER…"

Cloud glared, scandalized.  "Colonel Andrews!  There is a child here!  What are you doing speaking so in front of him?"

Andrews smirked.  "Strife, it is **so** obvious you're not from Midgar when you say things like that.  I'm sure the kid's not that impressionable."  Cloud blushed.

The child spoke for the first time, in a surprisingly sweet voice at odds with his solemnity.  "I don't want to drink alcohol.  Daddy says he'll swat me if I drink like he does, and Daddy's threats are for real.  He would, and he swats hard."

Just then Galen stuck his head out of the kitchen.  "Taka?"  He caught sight of the boy and strode out.  "What are you doing here?"

Taka smiled slightly.  "Hello, uncle Galen.  The nurse at the clinic said visiting hours were over so I couldn't see Daddy.  So I came to find you so I can see him.  Is that okay?"

Andrews frowned.  "How did you know Galen would be here?  Has he ever been here before?"  Cloud shook his head and Galen smiled mysteriously.

"I guess he really must be my brother's son."

"Who's your brother?"

Galen bit his lip, but Taka obviously had no such reservations.  "Reno."

Andrews stared, jaw working.  "As is, 'of the TURKs'?"  At Taka's solemn nod, Andrews's expression cleared into thoughtfulness.  "Well, I suppose that makes some sense.  You would be Tseng's son, right?  I'd heard he had a clause in his will that made Reno your guardian.  Unusual, but the TURKs are close; it makes a sort of sense that he'd leave the care of his family to one he trusted so well.  Lark made Tseng partially responsible for Elena in her will, too.  It's starting to become tradition, I guess."  He looked at Galen.  "So, you know where he is?  And…he's your brother, Mr. …Galen?  Reno's records clearly state his family is dead…"

Galen shook his head impatiently.  "Do you really think he'd let the Shinra know he's got family?  Family translates to 'leverage' in the Company.  In fact, I didn't realize it until recently, but Reno had a custom spell cast to keep people from making the connection between us.  My younger brothers look different enough to be in less danger, but I think he had the same spell cast over them, too."

Andrews sighed and rubbed his temples.  "You do realize that we've been looking for Reno for a while, now, don't you?"

Galen sighed and slumped where he stood.  "I'll take you to him.  But first…could you gather anyone who…might have been close to him.  I really only want to do this once."

Andrews nodded and pulled out a PHS.  They were unreliable in the Midgar Area, these days, but it ought to be able to raise a message center, so they could send out couriers to find Elena, Rude, interim President Reeve, and maybe a few others who might need to know.  "Where shall I tell everyone to meet?"

Galen shook his head.  "Have those who need to know meet at the Sector Two clinic tomorrow morning at eight.  In the meantime…Taka, wait outside a minute.  I'll take you to see your Daddy.  Do you want to come tomorrow, too?"  Taka nodded, and walked outside.  Andrews accompanied him, leaving the house to get a slightly better signal.

Galen sighed and gulped down the last of his beer.  "Well, Cloud, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.  It's strange, though," he murmured as he pushed his stool back in and put his empty bottle in the trash.  "If Taka isn't really Jamie's son, how **did** he find me?"  He exited musing to himself.  Cloud saw everyone out, then locked up for the night.

As he sank down onto the comfortable sofa, he wondered just as Galen had, but about more things.  Knowing Galen was Reno's brother was weird.  Taka's ability to find Galen from Sector Two was just as unusual.  Cloud remembered that he had recalled kissing Galen before, and worried that he'd not really thought of himself or others that way before…well, so he'd watched Vincent from time to time.  It wasn't his fault!  The ex-TURK was hypnotic.  And okay, Biggs had been sort of cute, Reno was a hot little firecracker, Tseng had been gorgeous, and a Sephiroth clone floating naked in some weird Materia structure had given him a hard-on…

Ooookay, so maybe he was just stupid, not to be thinking about himself like that.

But he'd loved Aeris, and it hadn't been just with the side of him that was Zack!  And Tifa was attractive.  And Jesse had been a sweet lady.

Then there was work.  The sheer number of things he'd had clamoring for his attention in his head had been staggering.  He remembered this stuff, and **knew** that was why Colonel Andrews had given him that duty.  His team was full of sharp, respectful, competent people—professionals chosen specifically for the duties assigned.  There were really only a couple he disliked, and he could still work with them.

Holy, but there were so many patients!  Maybe he should be focusing on finding the source of these strange cases of Mako poisoning and Green Syndrome…  Would Reno be okay?  What was Mako poisoning like to a Cetra, powerless or not?  It had been torture as just an average guy—what must the TURK be going through?

Cloud sighed, as his eyes slid shut.  It had been a tiring day.  He was confused, lonely, and wished he had someone to tell him what the hell was going on; barring that, at least someone who would lie to him and tell him it was going to be all right.

"You know, you only had to ask."

Cloud opened his eyes to find a familiar pair of green eyes gazing into his from close proximity.  Sephiroth was crouched beside the sofa, peering intently at him.  Cloud started to lever himself upright, but Sephiroth placed a gentle hand on his forehead.  The slight restraint made it clear that Sephiroth wanted him to stay down, so Cloud relaxed and reclined once more.  Sephiroth smiled and sat down on the carpet, back to the sofa, legs stretched out, leaning his head against the arm.

"Ask what?" Cloud asked quietly, tracing his fingers over the pattern of the weave of fabric that constituted the sofa's backrest.  Sephiroth's soft baritone floated back to him, intimate and gentle.

"Anything.  I really do think it'll be fine, given enough time.  What arrogance we humans have to think we could really destroy all life on this world!  Somehow, something, even just a bacteria, or a 'roach, or a chemoautotroph by a sea-floor vent will survive.  Mako is probably the only way we could really kill our world, and even then, maybe something would survive on Mako, rather than Lifestream."

The silver-haired man shrugged slightly.  "As for the rest; I don't know everything that's going on.  I **can** tell you I've almost found Hojo.  I can also tell you that Reno seems to be just fine, from this side—better than fine, even.  Radiant.  Full of laughter and power.  He'll come back to you, soon enough, and he'll do it a changed man.  He's been talking with Aeris a lot, learning things his parents died too long ago to teach him.  Not that, in life, Aeris was much better off, but since her death, she's become something of a Cetra researcher, learning all she can about the ways of the Cetra to teach to others—like Reno.  She wants to prevent anything like what happened with Meteor from ever happening again."

Cloud laughed slightly.  "Wouldn't anyone?  Holy, but I'd love to just sleep for a few days, no work, no crises, no nothing—just sleep and dreams and hope.  It's been so busy; you'd think saving the world would entitle a guy to a vacation."

Sephiroth looked over his shoulder at Cloud.  "I'm sure," he said, very seriously.  "If you asked, they would let you take a little time for yourself.  No one would begrudge you rest."

Cloud shook his head with a rueful sigh.  "**I** begrudge me.  There's too much to do, and not nearly enough people to do it.  Maybe once things calm down a bit.  Time enough for rest in death, you know?"

Sephiroth nodded calmly.  "Time enough."

Cloud was suddenly struck with a sense of how odd this was; here he was talking to his dead arch-enemy, getting news from the other side from him, and listening to the timbre of his voice as if it was the sweetest of music.  It all felt so intimate and relaxed, and Cloud found he didn't **want** to worry, to be tense in dreams as well as the outside world.  Even though he spent them in a near-constant dream-state, the nights on which Cloud dreamed of Sephiroth left him more refreshed than any deep sleep he'd ever had.  Maybe Sephiroth would come to him every night, if he asked him to.

The other man's words from before came back to him: 'you only had to ask,' and Cloud opened his mouth, swallowing the lump of anxiety in his throat.

"Sephiroth?"

"Hmm?"  Oh, Holy!  The lazy, comfortable sound made Cloud warm all over.  That warm baritone purring acknowledgment of him turned him to goo.  He had to fight to reorder his thoughts, and work to make the words come out.

"If I asked…would you come to me like this every night?"

Sephiroth turned, rolling up onto his knees beside the sofa and catching one of Cloud's hands in his own.  His eyes were bright, a light from within glowing in his face, and his hair slithering across the arm of the sofa, and Sephiroth's own, broad shoulders.

"In a heartbeat, Cloud.  If only you ask."

Cloud pressed.  "And if I asked you to go away, one night?"

Casting his eyes away, Sephiroth nodded, sadly.  "If that's what you want, I'll do it.  If you ask."

Cloud reversed the grip of their hands, squeezing the graceful digits still captive in his grasp.  "I'm asking now, Sephiroth.  Come to me?  Every night.  I…sleep better when you're here, and I don't know why.  But I need it.  Please?"

Sephiroth smiled, a real, wide smile.  It seemed a little strange; Sephiroth's features were so obviously unused to holding that expression (and why might that be, Strife?  Surely, he's not had much in his life to smile about.), but the smile was bright and beautiful, and made Cloud's heart ache.  Could he really make this man—this great, powerful, handsome man—so happy, simply by telling him that he wanted him nearby?

Apparently so.

"I'll come, Cloud.  Every night, until you tell me to stop.  I'll come."

Cloud smiled and laid his head down on the armrest, content.  "I'm glad," he murmured, leaning into the soft caress Sephiroth bestowed on his cheek.  Then, comfortable within this dream, he slept.

*

**Scenic Route Synopsis**

James born

Galen born; James and Galen's mother dies

James and Galen's father remarries

Raythan born

James, Galen, Raythan, and Andrew's father dies

Andrew born; Raythan and Andrew's mother dies; James starts taking care of the rest of his brothers.

James adopts his mother's maiden name 'Reno.'  Reno establishes identities for his brothers under the surname 'Hernandez' instead of Hiko.  Reno prostitutes himself for the first time.

Reno tries and becomes addicted to _glow_—a Mako-based designer drug.

Reno kills for the first time in a cage fight.  Lifestream backlash shuts down most of his senses semi-permanently.  The partially dissociated personality of James is forced into the background.

Reno fights in an underground cage fight free-for-all, in which he attracts the attention of the Shinra by defeating Tseng of the TURKs by summoning Tiamat.  Reno is approached by Lark to join the TURKs.  Reno accepts.

Reno collapses in training due to _glow_ withdrawal.  Discovers Tseng's Cetra ancestry.  Begins rehab.

Reno becomes a TURK.  Reno moves in with Tseng, per company policy.

Reno finds out about Taka.

Reno meets Sephiroth and Zack.  Reno goes to Wutai with illegal orders to bring Cloud back to Hojo and a Meteor Materia from Zack to deliver to Cloud.  Reno decides to let Cloud be.

Reno and Tseng become involved.

Assassination attempt on President Shinra.  Lark is killed.  Tseng becomes leader of the TURKs.

Rude is recruited into the TURKs.  Reno and Rude move in together, per company policy.

Cloud and Galen meet and become friends.  

Galen gives Cloud two splinters of his Holy Materia.

Period of relative calm.  Tseng and Reno become more deeply involved.  Tseng has his will rewritten so that, in the event of his death, Reno becomes Taka's legal guardian.

Game start.

Reno brings down the Sector Seven Plate.  Injuries from the fight with AVALANCHE and severe Lifestream backlash incapacitate him.  Elena is hired to fill in the necessary manpower.

TURKs chase Cloud and company around the Planet.  Reno grows confused about Cloud's apparent lack of memory and the strange behavior of 'Sephiroth.'

Temple of the Ancients.  Tseng dies and Reno becomes Taka's legal guardian.

Aeris dies summoning Holy.

Reno warns Galen to take measures to protect the family from Meteor.  Reno takes Taka to his shack by Aeris's church to wait out Meteor.

Meteor's near-collision with the Planet.  'Sephiroth' is killed.  Lifestream surges to aid Holy in destroying Meteor.  Reno falls comatose.

Okay, yeah, a lot of talk-talk-talking, but I hope it was still enjoyable.  Got Taka in, which will be important in parts to come; got Galen to openly tell Cloud about his family's Cetra heritage; got Cloud just that little bit closer to dream-Sephiroth.  I even managed to get an indirect update on Reno in!  I'm fairly happy with this part, even if it took me only about a day to write.  I hope it doesn't suck for the speed at which I whipped it out…

Anyway, as always, comments, questions, and concerns are more than welcome.  Tell me what you think by clicking that little review button, or send me an email!  I love to hear from my readers, if it's just a 'love it, keep it up' or a near-dissertation.  Thanks for reading my babble!

Sincerely,

—Akuma no Tsubasa


	5. Sleeping Beauty and the Devil

Hi!

Another part, another part!  I'm so proud of myself!  It's a little on the short side, but I had to break it or go on another six or seven pages.  I decided that, while long parts are great, I want to try and keep updating on a regular basis.  And the Reviewer of the Part for Part Four is…  *dramatic drum roll* Isrea Ishiida!  Thanks so much for your cool review!  What makes you think I can't get a happy ending in here, though?  I have so far to go, this could believably become a cross-over by the end!  Not that it will…although, I've always wanted to write a cross of FFVII and either FFVIII or FFX…  Maybe once this is done, ne?  This award might have gone to Dark Ice Angel, again, but it seems her review got chopped off in the middle.  Angel, maybe you could look at it and tell me what I didn't get?  I'd love to get every scrap of insight you volunteered!

Anyhow, on to the fic!  Further notes below!

*

Morning came swiftly.  Cloud woke feeling quite rested.

And extremely hungry.

He swore as he realized he'd once again forgotten dinner.  His stomach growled in ill-tempered agreement.  Cloud sighed, and sat up, scrubbing his hands across his face.  Of course, there was **still** no food in the house—he'd **have** to hit the commissary sometime soon, or he'd start looking like an anorexic stick insect.

Cloud stood up, cracked his back, and headed for the shower.  Scrubbing himself slowly under the hot water, Cloud thought about the dream.  Things were pointing more and more definitively toward a close friendship between himself and Sephiroth.  He hadn't even thought of Zack through the whole dream, and he hadn't thought **like** him, either.  Maybe he **had** known Sephiroth before…well, everything he'd thought he remembered.  He had to admit, his memory was hardly the most reliable.

Drying off, and raking a comb through his hair took only a few minutes—though his hair was getting long enough that that kind of haste bordered on painful.  He pulled on yet another of Zack's uniforms, resolving to get some laundry done sometime this week, and set out for the mess hall.  Food first, appointments with the comatose later.

This morning, he was earlier than anyone he actually knew.  He pulled up a chair in a quiet corner of the mess and downed his meal with all the speed and efficiency he could manage.  A few people said restrained greetings, and he smiled and greeted back.  By the time he was done, he had a small group of other young officers and NCOs gathered around him, talking quietly in the early morning stillness.  It was pleasant and restful, and a welcome change in pace.  Then they started leisurely drifting off to duties, saying courteous, pleasant good-byes.  When Cloud separated himself from them, they offered him good wishes for the day, which he returned.

About half-way down to the clinic, Cloud became truly aware of the odd feeling of the day.  It was like waking up all over again, to a different world.  The peace and quiet certainly felt like something from someone else's life.  Cloud resolved to enjoy the novel experience while it lasted; meeting with a load of upset TURKs, the interim President, and possibly a chunk of AVALANCHE in the middle of an overflowing, understaffed emergency clinic was not bound to be very restful.

Indeed, walking through the doors of the rather distressed building that had been converted to the main section of the clinic, was a bit like walking into a combination of an ER and a M.A.S.H. unit.  Harried doctors, unhappy patients, anxious relatives…  

Cloud sighed and clasped the serenity of the morning to him as he waded through the chaos of people.  He paused now and then to help someone, and checked on the overnight patients—some of whom were making remarkable improvement.  One was even awake and aware, now, if in a great deal of pain.  A morphine drip was being started even as Cloud left.

Back in the main area before he headed down to Reno's room, Cloud caught sight of Reeve, the anxious TURKs (which was quite a remarkable look on Rude), some of AVALANCHE, and Galen.  About a heartbeat later, Cloud felt a small hand find his.  Cloud looked down to find Taka clutching his hand and looking seriously up at him.

"Make sure they don't try to make me leave, okay?  He's lonely in his sleep.  It's better when he's in the coma, when the flower lady talks to him."

Cloud remembered what Sephiroth had told him about Aeris teaching Reno things about the Cetra.  He was a little surprised that Taka would know such a thing, but nodded solemnly to the ten-year-old.  "I won't let them."  Taka gifted him with a tiny smile.  Cloud had one more question, though.  "Taka, was your father a Cetra, too?"

Taka gazed up at him, then sighed.  "I'm not supposed to tell, but the flower lady said you were safe, last time I saw her.  And Daddy trusts her, so I guess I do, too."

Cloud smiled and squeezed the slim hand in his carefully, mindful of his enhanced strength.  "Thank you for trusting me, Taka.  I promise, I won't tell anyone else."

"Thank you."

Cloud walked over to Reeve and company.  Galen smiled at him and Taka.

"Good morning, Taka.  'Morning, Cloud."

Cloud smiled at Galen.  "'Morning, Galen.  Sleep well?"

Galen shrugged.  "Well enough to function, I guess.  You?"

Cloud couldn't help the slightly dopey smile that turned up the corners of his mouth.  "Never better, Galen.  Not since I first learned that some of the monsters in the dark are real."

Galen smiled crookedly.  "Well, I'm glad someone isn't bothered by the fact they're about to go back in that room.  At least I know he's comfortable."  Galen turned to the company they had.  "Come on, then.  I'll show you to him."

Elena was first on Galen's heels.  "Might I inquire, doctor, why—when everyone in Midgar knew we were looking for him—you never said anything?"

Galen stopped and spun on one heel.  He extended a finger and pointed it right in her face.  "Listen, Lady.  I don't give a shit who you are; you will not tell me how to look after my brother, do you understand me?  Your presence there will probably not make the slightest bit of difference in his condition.  I'm only doing this on the off chance you people will make him that much happier as he lies in that horrible little bed, unable to **quite** wake up."  He turned and stalked off on long legs, tossing back over his shoulder.  "Come on, now.  Do **try** to keep up."

Elena blinked, obviously floored.  "Shit.  He's Reno's brother?"

Rude smiled—a fleeting, barely visible, extremely rare thing for him.  "I see the resemblance, if only in temper.  The red hair, though, kind of shows the physical kinship between them, as well."

Tifa rolled her eyes.  "Just what we need; another crazy mass murderer running around."

"Tifa," Cloud ground out, knowing he was sounding pretty menacing, but only really aware of Taka's suddenly tight grasp on his hand.  "Keep the comments to yourself.  And Galen is a good guy, no matter what you think.  I know him pretty well and count him a friend.  I won't tolerate you bad mouthing him."

Tifa gaped slightly.  "Cloud..?  What are you talking about?  You know Reno's brother?"

Cloud forced the growl down in his throat.  **Why** was Tifa suddenly being the most annoying thing on the Planet?  Why was he so close to just tearing her head off and kicking her out of this place?  And most importantly, where was the serenity of this morning?

Cloud took a deep breath before stopping beside Galen just outside Reno's door.  Galen smiled slightly, appreciative of Cloud's support, then turned to the visitors.  "I'm going to have to ask that you all keep this short.  I'll stretch visiting hours for the TURKs—" he said, looking at them.  "—but only because Cloud has assured me that TURKs are like family.  Speaking of which…"  Galen gestured to two people in the back of their little gaggle.  "I'd like you to meet my younger brothers Raythan and Andrew."

Cloud studied them closely.  Both were taller than Galen—and thus, **much** taller that Reno—with hair of a darker shade of red.  Their eyes were also a bit more green and the edge of their Wutaian features was blunted a bit.

Raythan looked like a punk rocker.  About sixteen, his hair was cut short, but left long in front, and streaked with electric blue and black.  He had a number of earrings, and his mesh shirt revealed that both nipples and his navel were also pierced.  He had a tattoo of lightning on his left arm, and some strange tribal markings on the right.  He was armed with a dangerous looking knife.

Andrew, on the other hand, was pretty ordinary.  He looked about thirteen, though quite a serious thirteen.  He wore a pair of well-worn jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black button-down over-shirt.  His hair was long and in a slightly frazzled pony-tail, and he clutched a text-book to his chest.  He had a pair of short sticks riding in a modified holster, sticking out low over the backs of his hips.

Galen smiled slightly at them.  "Ready, guys?"

"Yeah, whatever."  "Yes, Galen."

Galen turned and knocked on the door, calling in, "Hi, big brother!  You've got company today!"  He opened the door, ushering them in.  He crossed to Reno's bed and checked his vitals with casual competence.  "It's me and the boys, today, with Taka, and Cloud—I think you know him—and your TURK friends."

Elena gasped upon seeing Reno in his nest of monitors and rushed to his side, carefully picking up one thin hand.  "Oh, Reno!" She looked on the brink of tears.  "Oh, Holy, this can't be right.  There has to be some mistake!  He looks so…so—" 

"Dead?" Galen asked.  "He's not.  In fact, every instrument we have says he should be awake right now.  He just isn't.  So we're giving him the time to get better."

"He **will** get better, will he not?" Rude asked, as formally and quietly as Cloud had ever heard anyone speak.  Galen nodded.

"With time, we're…optimistic.  It's hard to say, since we don't know what's causing this, but I think he'll be fine."

Taka extricated himself from Cloud's hand and climbed carefully up on the bed.  No one had really noticed him before, so they blinked, then carried on.  "I'm glad to hear it, Doctor," Reeve said, softly.  "He's technically, by seniority, the leader of the TURKs now; not to mention he's a competent, confident man.  Right now, we need all of that kind of man we can get.  Besides, people miss him."

Tifa rolled her eyes…**again**.  "So just because there was some huge disaster, we just forget the things he's done?  He's responsible for the deaths of thousands of people!  Do you **realize** that?  How many people lived in the squalor of Sector Seven when he dropped that Plate on it?  It may have been a slum, but it was a **city** in its own right, in the top twenty or thirty in the world all on its own!"  She glanced nervously at Reno's fixedly glaring brothers.  She also saw Rude's fists clench and Elena's hand twitch toward her gun, and swallowed before continuing.  "Look, I'm not saying this is what he deserves; I wouldn't wish this on anyone.  But can we really just **forget** how many people died?"

Reeve sighed.  "I know what you're saying, Tifa.  Really, I do.  But most of the Shinra was corrupt.  Any order coming down was probably immoral.  And a TURK can't refuse a mission…no matter what.  Refusal is grounds for dismissal and retirement.  And TURKs don't live to retire."

Tifa sighed.  Barret, beside her and silent until now, placed a hand on her shoulder.  "What d'yo mean, don' live ta retire?"

"What he means, my friend," Vincent, the last member of AVALANCHE present, said quietly.  "Is that TURKs either die in the line of duty, or are killed before they can leave.  Shinra has too many secrets and too much filth to allow one of its hired hit-men to walk out."

Tifa and Barret looked horrified.  "Oh, my…  I had no idea," Tifa whispered, looking ill.  Cloud felt his heart soften; the innocence she still carried in her was sweet.  It was sad that she hadn't known such a thing.  Only the truly innocent or the truly stupid could hate the Shinra's employees so blindly without any idea of what kept them in line, of why they stayed on.  He rested a hand on her other shoulder.

"Tifa, why don't you go home, get some rest.  I'm sure you've been working since we hit Midgar.  Take some time for you, now."

Barret nodded.  "Yeah, spike-boy's right."  Tifa nodded slightly, and Barrett smiled at Cloud.  "I'll see her out."

They had just turned to go when Taka spoke up.  "You know, he's really sorry about that.  But it was either him or one of his friends, and he wouldn't let Father or Mr. Rude do it."

Tifa and Barret continued out, but Elena looked at Taka strangely.  He was sitting beside Reno on the bed, combing his fingers through the long red hair.  "And who are you?"

"I'm Taka.  Tseng of the TURKs was my father.  They say since he died, Reno is my daddy."

Elena's eyes were almost comically wide.  "Tseng had a son?"

Rude nodded solemnly.  "I remember when you were very little, Taka.  Reno and I were living together because Company policy said the two junior TURKs had to live together.  Before I came, that was Reno and Tseng.  Apparently, during that time, Reno took care of you a lot, because Tseng was 'clueless' about how to raise a child.  Even after Tseng moved up, Reno still took care of you a lot.  You—" and here Rude made an almost-fond half-smile.  "Called him 'Daddy.'  You've grown a lot."

Taka nodded, smiling.  "Yes.  I had Father and I had Daddy.  I never liked my biological mother, even after I finally got to meet her.  She abandoned me, so Father had to work really hard to get time to be with me."

Suddenly, there was a light rap on the door, and a SOLDIER burst in.  He immediately saluted Cloud, whose hand came up in automatic reply.

"Lieutenant Strife, Sir!  Colonel Andrews requests your presence at the Sector HQ!"

Cloud straightened entirely. "Did he say what for?"

The SOLDIER shook his head.  "He didn't, Sir."

Cloud nodded, and turned back to the confused room.  "I'll have to excuse myself.  I'll likely see you later, Galen.  Let Taka stay as long as he wants, okay?  That's his 'Daddy' in that bed.  Reeve, Vincent, take care."

Reeve nodded, but Vincent stepped forward.  "I'll go with you.  I have business that way, myself."  Cloud nodded and stepped out, following the SOLDIER with the dark ex-TURK at his heels.

Cloud walked briskly down the clinic corridor, then broke into an easy trot when they were outside and the SOLDIER guide did so.  Vincent, with his enhancements and much longer legs, kept up easily.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Cloud," the quiet man said softly, only just audible over the jangle of all their bangles, weapons, Materia, and clothing.  "Lieutenant?  An easy single-rank jump.  Almost automatic, but nice, nonetheless.  And no more than you deserve."

Cloud smiled slightly.  "Thank you, Vincent.  I don't guess Tifa or Barret noticed my rank insignia…though they probably wouldn't have understood them, even if they had seen them."  After a long silence, Cloud spoke again.  "So, what've you been up to?"

The corners of Vincent's eyes creased as he smiled beneath his cloak and cowl—obviously, he felt no desire to change his wardrobe, even after it had become possible.  His voice was laced with mirth.  "Mostly, I have been tagging after Cid.  It has proven quite enjoyable watching him bully people into getting the parts he needs for the _Highwind_.  We also were able to try out some equipment the Shinra had for Aero Combatants—they want to use the little helicopter things to help search for people.  They've never gotten them to work for a lot more than hovering and slow movement.  Cid is excited."

Cloud smiled.  Vincent and Cid were way too different to get along, or so it seemed to anyone who had never watched them interact.  It seemed their unusual 'opposites attract' relationship was still working.  That was good; Cloud wasn't arrogant enough to think his friends' lives would fall apart if he wasn't around, but he did worry.  It was nice of Vincent to come with him and tell him things.  Speaking of which…

"How's Yuffie?  And Red?"

"Yuffie has finally stopped misbehaving for Elena.  Apparently, our thieving friend irritated the lady TURK into an extravagant use of her authority—namely, making sure Yuffie was restrained—she remembered Yuffie had been unable to escape Corneo because he used ropes, so she did, too—got nothing but the worst hospital food, and had no entertainment for a few days.  Yuffie has since sworn on the honor of Wutai to be good for Elena.  She will run anyone else ragged, but as soon as Elena enters the room, she is an **angel**.  It is rather disconcerting.  But she is healing, and that is good.

"Red is also doing well.  He shows almost no evidence he was injured, now, except after he's been on that leg for a few hours.  He has started helping the search crews find the missing…and the dead.  The children at the main hospital are fascinated with him.  They like petting him."

Cloud glanced at Vincent.  _/Wow.  I think that's the most I've ever heard him talk at one time./_  As if reading his mind, the other man's red eyes slid over to meet his, glinting with humor.  Cloud felt something happy bubble in him.  Vincent was **happy**, and it made Cloud happy to see it.

"You seem…different," Vincent said, and Cloud blinked.  Hadn't **he** just been thinking that?  And how was he different?  Vincent Mr. Dour-and-serious himself was the one **smiling**.  And, lo and behold, he decided to elaborate, too!  Would wonders never cease?

"You seem more…content, perhaps?  Was getting into SOLDIER such a big thing that it has made you so happy?"

Cloud laughed.  "No, it's not SOLDIER.  Well, not entirely.  It's just that…  Holy, Vincent, I've gotten my life back!  Old friends, work, a home…"  Cloud cut himself off as he remembered just **whose** house he was living in, and who the most prominent of those 'old friends' were.

"Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"Would it seem odd to you if I told you I was living in Zack's old place?  That he left it to me, in the event he should die?"

Vincent shrugged.  "You were friends, or so it seemed to me from your stories.  A little closer by this new evidence, but it's not **that** odd.  Tseng left his **son** to Reno."

Cloud frowned.  Dare he say something about the vague recollection of his that Tseng and Reno had been lovers?  No **way**, not where he was headed with this next question.

"Would it seem odd to you that **Sephiroth** was my friend, that it was his house, too, and that he **also** left everything to me?"  Vincent screeched to a halt, staring at Cloud like he'd grown a second head, then resumed his jog.  Cloud sighed.  "I guess so."

Vincent shook his head.  "No, it is merely that…well, he was the enemy, and you led us against him.  The thought that you were friends once is…sad.  Although," Vincent frowned thoughtfully.  "The primary clone had a large chunk of the real Sephiroth's memory, correct?  I had wondered why he failed to kill you, either with the other clones or after he had you deliver the Black Materia to him.  Perhaps a past friendship might explain it."

Cloud blinked and had to exert some effort to keep his feet moving.  He had kind of wondered, too.  'Sephiroth' had never made any attempt at all to kill him.  Used him for fetch and carry, played him like a puppet, but he had never actually struck at him, until the very end beneath the Crater.  He'd murdered Aeris right in front of him, smiling, but hadn't taken the shocked delay between that event and Cloud's reaction to kill him and all his friends.  He'd been released from the Materia lattice after activating the Black Materia, but had done nothing against Cloud or his friends.  Actually, it was a miracle they'd only suffered the one casualty the whole time—Sephiroth was a soldier such that he could plow down whole armies; tiny little AVALANCHE, while more powerful per person than any army Cloud knew of, would still have been an after-dinner mint to him.

Shit, maybe Vincent had a point.

HQ was coming up, though, and Cloud was once again forced to set such thoughts aside.  He **hated** doing that, but he knew he had to prioritize if he was to get anything done.  A rather annoying corner of his mind wondered if he was working and refusing to take a vacation solely to keep himself too busy to deal with the many things he had yet to deal with.  He stepped on it, enjoying the wet crunch his mental boot-heel made as it squashed the hapless notion.  Then he winced as he realized he was taking waaay too much pleasure in subduing his personal demons.

Thinking of personal demons, Cloud glanced at Vincent.  The leggy man had slowed some, and Cloud matched him.  He smiled at his friend, thankful they had convinced the depressive ex-TURK to join them.  They were bound together through Sephiroth and Hojo, and it was nice to have someone around who understood what it was like.  Of course, Vincent's old life was thirty years gone and beyond recall, and he didn't remember anything of the experiments performed on him, but they were close enough to feel some kinship.  And Vincent was making a new life, now, rising from the ashes of the old in a remarkable display of personal determination.  Cloud was proud to call him friend.

Vincent seemed to be thinking along similar lines, for the corners of his eyes creased again—at this rate he might develop (gasp!) smile lines.  "I shall leave you to your meeting, Cloud.  I have to go meet Cid for another round of brow-beating those with resources.  But we are still here for you.  If you need anything, we will come.  And…"  Vincent frowned.  "I would like to one day see the type of place Lucrecia's son called home."

Cloud laughed.  "My home is open to you.  Whenever you want, just let me know so I don't come home and flip when I see something disturbed."

Vincent looked at him strangely.  "You have not moved anything?"

Cloud flushed.  "Well, I'm living out of Zack's closet, but aside from looking through all the rooms and poking around a little—not really.  I just…can't, you know.  It seems strange, but I feel like they're not really gone.  Like any moment, I'll bump into Zack and we'll head home and crash on the couch and wait for Seph to get done making dinner."

"…'Seph?'  I would not have believed him the domestic type."

Cloud blinked.  "Was he?  Did I say that?"  He reviewed the sentence in his head and blinked.  "Yeah, I guess that was the implication.  'Seph.'  I wonder if I actually called him that once."

Vincent shrugged.  "Take it easy.  Let it come.  I am sure it will come in time."

Cloud smiled.  "Thanks, man.  I'll let you go see Cid.  Tell him I say 'hi,' okay?"

Vincent nodded, then turned with a flutter of his scarlet cape, and was gone.  Cloud turned toward the large tent that was the Sector HQ and took a steadying breath.  Then he marched resolutely forward, pushing the heavy canvas flap aside as he went.  It fell limply down with all the finality of an iron gate slamming shut behind him.

*

Hi, again!

I hope everyone enjoyed the part!  Hahahahaha!  I bet half of you thought I was waking Reno up, here.  Nope!  Not for a little while, anyway; if he wakes up, it'll be for a purpose.  This part was to get a passing reference to Reno's family and the TURKs, as well as to remind people that AVALANCHE is still out there.  Some of them will even be important later.  *gasp*  Imagine that!

…Hmm, I guess there's nothing more I want to say.  Just please review, for me; comments, questions, and concerns are all welcome.  Confused?  Tell me!  And if you'd like a reply back, just tell me that, too.  I'd be glad to clarify things, though some parts will be cleared up as I go.  Thanks for reading!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	6. Revelation and Awakening

Hi!

Yes, it's been a while.  I'm sorry for the wait.  But this is a long part and a very important part.  I hope it came out well, because it really needs to.  sigh

I'd like to offer my sincerest thanks to my wonderful new beta, Allanon.  Thanks so much for your patience, speed, and comments!  hug  Let me also say I hate finals, I hate homework, and I really love having graduated!  Hopefully, updates will be a little more prompt.

Anyway, enjoy the fic!

"Strife!  Glad you could make it so promptly!"

Cloud was immediately on guard.  Colonel Andrews sounded way too happy to see him.  Admittedly, their relationship was a lot closer and more personal than a Colonel should usually have with a Lieutenant, but in public places they generally stuck a little closer to the rules.

Cloud straightened his back, his fingers itching for Ultima Weapon's hilt.  Unfortunately, he hadn't been dragging Ultima Weapon through the clinic and along the country mile it took to get anywhere right now.  All he had was his knife—although, that was a formidable weapon in its own right, especially in his hands.  He managed—if only just—not to reach for the weapon.  Despite his best efforts though, his fingers twitched toward the hidden blade.

Andrews smiled slightly, having noticed the reaction and being among the handful of people still alive who knew what it meant.  Cloud offered a little half-shrug and glanced around the 'room.'  It was surprisingly empty, except for a large cage set in one corner; all the rest of the furniture had been moved away.  Cloud quirked an eyebrow at Andrews, who looked levelly at him.

"I'm sorry for dragging you away from your meeting with the President and the TURKs, but I felt this warranted your attention."

Cloud looked right in Andrews' eyes, and realized that the SOLDIER was **deliberately** pumping up his importance in what was left of the Shinra.  Cloud heard a faint rustle from the cage, and made two more realizations—one, there was something in the cage; and two, Andrews was speaking for its inhabitant's benefit.  Cloud casually waved off the older SOLDIER's 'apology.'

"Don't worry over it, Colonel.  TURK war stories are interesting, but they're boring people when they're on the job.  Not to mention the bureaucrats."  Andrews relaxed as Cloud caught on to the ruse.  Cloud stepped over toward the cage.  "So, what do you have for me?"

Andrews waved at the cage.  "Some kind of Mako monster.  It said it was looking for Sephiroth's 'successor,' and refused to talk to anyone else."

Cloud felt his muscles tense slightly.  "Oh, really.  What time did it come in?"

"The middle of the night, actually.  We tried to make it talk, but finally I decided we had to disturb you."

Cloud shrugged.  "Very well.  Let's see what this thing has to say to me."

He started to take a step forward, but Andrews put out an arm to stop him.  Cloud coolly raised an eyebrow, and Andrews met his eyes.  "Forgive me, but I can't let you near that cage without guards.  It's already assaulted several officers, and threatens that the next that comes in reach will die."

Cloud rolled his eyes.  "I think I'm capable of taking care of myself, Colonel.  But I suppose I could let your guards sit in if it makes you feel better.  So long as they're trustworthy."  Cloud let his serious blue eyes meet Andrews' for a moment.  "I want this going no further if it's important."

Andrews nodded.  "You have my word; only the most circumspect of my men will be chosen."  He turned and stuck his head out the tent flap, calling in a loud voice, barely muffled by the heavy canvas, "Detail!"

Artemis walked in, sword over her back and a Mako rifle in her hands.  She was followed swiftly by Ricky, Reggie, and—oddly—Ray in a SOLDIER uniform.  Cloud realized Andrews had gathered his closest friends in the Shinra Military for this duty.  It was kind of neat to see Ray in SOLDIER gear; he'd never expressed any interest in joining SOLDIER, nor in the bladed weapons that were so distinctly SOLDIER's hallmark.  But he had a sword on his back, a wicked knife in his belt, and was carrying a Mako heavy blaster as though he were the heavy-weapons man in a unit.  Ray had always liked the big guns…

Cloud turned away from what he'd disguised as a deep, careful reading of each member's trustworthiness, and toward Andrews.  Andrews stepped forward.

"What you see and hear here is not to go any further.  Do you understand, SOLDIERs?"  They nodded with quiet, professional curtness.

Cloud turned back to the cage, walking toward it.  As he did so, he finally saw what was in it.  It wasn't a Mako monster he'd ever encountered before, but it looked like a mishmash of several he **was** familiar with: 8 Eye, Bahba Velamyu, Unknown 1, and a Crown Lance.  In other words, it looked like a giant gelatinous blob with two jumping legs, stinging tentacles, and really big teeth.  Not to mention a few dozen eyes, all of which were fixated on Cloud with unsettling intensity.

Brr.

Cloud walked up to the cage, mentally assessing its occupant.  The legs meant it could spring pretty fast, but its jelly body would make the creature incapable of sustained speed.  Though, in water, it would probably be a force to be reckoned with.  The tentacles posed the biggest danger, since each was easily five feet long relaxed; the teeth were only dangerous if he got in their range.

"So," Cloud began.  "You want me?  Here I am."

One toothy mouth (there were three) opened and a long tongue swiped across the yellowed teeth, as though licking its lips (of which it had none).  Then it retracted back into the mouth and took a wet breath.

"Grrreeeetingssss, oh howerhul uan.  I rrring rrregarrrds in nnane of lady Genoha."

Cloud rolled his eyes.  "Listen, I'm really busy.  I do not have time to translate everything you say into something recognizable.  So either clean up your speech, or I walk, got it?"

The monster seemed distressed.  Interesting.  "Uater.  Cannot steek uithout it."

Cloud walked over to a table, on which a pitcher of water sat.  Turning, he splashed some through the bars onto the thing inside.  Oh, look, it did have lips.  They had merely been dried into little strips at the gum line.  The water made them swell and fall into normal lip positions.  How…pleasant.

"Many thanks, oh masterful one."  The hell?  The thing honestly had one of those too pleasant voices like the lady on the PHS when the line was disconnected or something.  Ick.  Cloud's skin was starting to crawl, but he forced his face into a mask of unconcern.

"Well, try again from the beginning and we'll see if I regret letting you speak."

The thing squirmed.  "Of course.  I bring regards in the name of lady Jenova."

Cloud's eyes narrowed.  "Oh, really.  And why would I want to speak with anything of Jenova's?  She bores me, you understand, and I don't like being bored."

Another squirm.  "The Lady offers the one who defeated the great Sephiroth an opportunity to walk at her side.  She will grant a share of her power to you, oh powerful one."

"In exchange for what?  My soul?  My life?  The lives of my friends?  That of the Planet itself?  She forgets that I was there when Sephiroth turned to her; I saw exactly how many he killed.  And I was there when the Clones arose, jerked about on strings of her making.  They tried to take the Planet.  Why should that be my desire?"

The thing wobbled, seemingly becoming truly anxious.  When it spoke again, there was a slight stutter to be heard.  "She offers power beyond any mortal's imagining, immortality, and…she says she will tell you where Sephiroth is."

Cloud felt his insides grow cold.  _/Where Sephiroth **is**.  Oh, my blessed…could he be alive still?  Through all that?/_  Still Cloud threw his head back in a mirthless laugh, calculated to be chilling and careless.  He was very consciously imitating Sephiroth in the full swing of insanity.  "Ha, ha, ha!  Immortality?  How boring life would be after an age had passed!  I'm already stronger than **Sephiroth** was—I stood toe-to-toe with him and came out on top.  I don't need any more power.  And I **know** where Sephiroth is; you think I don't?  Tell your mistress to keep her emissaries' forked tongues behind their teeth and I **may** decide not to crush her like I did her little pets."

The blob in the middle of the cell suddenly drew itself up, hissing in rage.  "Do not speak so of the Lady!  She does not respond to threats—she is above them!"

Cloud gathered himself up also, unaware he was oozing rage and generally scaring the shit out of his 'guest'—and his 'guards,' too.  Had the blob's eyes been configured to see color, it would have seen Cloud's eyes flash incandescent green, as all the Mako in his system surged, not unlike when one cast a spell.  "You listen to me.  Jenova is every bit as destructible as Sephiroth was…more so, even.  She never gave me the sort of trouble, headache, or heartache Sephiroth was capable of causing.  She was just another powerful monster between my goal and me, and I bowled her over four times because of it.  If she gets in my way, rest assured I'll kick her aside again."

All the creature's eyes suddenly turned dark, and its terrified quivering ceased.  "You will regret not taking me up on my offer, child," it hissed.  Cloud smiled.

"Ah, Jenova.  So good to talk to you again.  I missed our little chats.  You know, the ones while I was in that horrible little cell and you tormented me into catatonia?  Yeah, I would love nothing more than to crush you like a bug beneath my boot-heel.  Right now, it's not worth the trouble, but it can become so, and quickly.  Stay away from me and mine, and stay away from Sephiroth, or you **will** regret it—for the short time you remain alive **to** regret."

'She' hissed through her puppet's teeth.  "You're right about one thing, child.  You did fight me four times; the Cetra themselves waged war against me, and they broke like waves against the rock.  Yet still, I am here.  How will you defeat me, little one, when even they could not?"

Cloud laughed again.  "Ah, Jenova, there's something wrong with your analogy; though the rock survives the pounding of the waves, after an age even its strength is washed away.  It's been a **long** time since you came to this world, Jenova.  Perhaps your strength has eroded, too?  And besides, the Cetra **did** manage to seal you away, didn't they?  If I decide to focus on your destruction, rest assured, you **will** end."

Jenova gave one last hiss, incoherent and angry, before fleeing the body of her host.  Cloud turned away from the pathetic glob of goo.  Andrews stepped forward to meet him.

"What do you want us to do with…that?" he asked seriously.  Cloud scowled.

"Burn it.  As long as it lives, Jenova has a way to see into this place, possibly to do harm.  Best to destroy it quickly."

The glob lunged at the bars of its cage.  "NO!" it cried.  "I won't let you!  I will complete my mission; I will!"  It swung a lashing tentacle out at them, and Cloud pushed Andrews roughly aside.  The appendage snapped through the space in which Andrews had been standing and contacted Cloud in the midsection.  He felt the impact, but even Jenova could not strengthen jellyfish nematocysts enough to get through the tough material of his uniform.  Holy, but this thing was a stupid organism!  At least Crown Lances had the instinctive sense to go for faces and sensitive flesh.

A sudden roar made him look up in time to see Ray firing the heavy blaster at the blob.  The Mako weapon incinerated the gelatinous body almost instantly.  It didn't even get out a last scream.

Then Andrews was beside Cloud, looking worried.  "You all right, Strife?"

Cloud smiled grimly.  "I'm fine, Sir.  But right now…I think I need to head back to the clinic."

"It sting you?" Ray asked, concerned.  Cloud shook his head. 

"No way.  It was too busy getting toasted by your new toy to do me any harm."  Ray smiled, petting his weapon affectionately.  Cloud smiled, too, but sobered quickly.  "Actually, I think there's a red-head down there who is about to wake up, ready or not."

Cloud frowned as he strode quickly into Reno's hospital room.  It seemed that the TURKs had gone back to their duties, and the two younger brothers had vanished to parts unknown.  Cloud was lucky enough to catch Galen while he was in, though—checking his brother's vitals, it seemed.

The red-head looked up at him, startled.  "Cloud?  What is it?"

"Galen, I have to ask Reno a question."

Galen shrugged.  "I'd love to help you, my friend, but he's every bit as asleep as he was when you were here earlier."

Cloud made an impatient gesture.  "Cut the crap, man!  I know at least one of the lot of you can communicate with him.  Hell, Taka was talking for him earlier!  Maybe you can't do it all the time, but I have **got** to speak with him."

Galen looked uncomfortable.  "Look, Cloud—" he began, but Taka's quiet voice interrupted him.

"I'll help.  But I can only hear when he sends messages to me; I can't talk back.  I can only talk back to my Father, since we're blood."

Cloud nodded.  "Fine, so I have to get his attention myself?  How?"

Galen sighed.  "You may have to wait until his coma lightens, again.  Then we're pretty sure he can hear what's happening around him."

Cloud felt his anxiety and excitement spiraling out of control.  He was maybe three more delays away from going stark raving mad.  "Screw that!  I need to talk to him now.  **Now**, not later!  He's a Cetra; maybe a disturbance in the Lifestream…"

Galen's eyes went wide.  "Cloud, what are you thinking?  You can't do anything else to this poor Planet; it's already reeling from the accursed Meteor!"

Cloud drew himself up, centering himself and reaching for the Mako in his body.  "I'm thinking that I'm a walking battery, here.  If I can just generate enough energy…"

Galen shook his head.  "It is **way** too dangerous!  There's no way you can do that, and even if you could, your body wouldn't be able to take it for long.  Holy, you'll probably upset your Mako balance and poison yourself."  The shook his head again.  "No.  I can't let you do it."  (A.N.  Think Cloud in the beginning of the game telling Aeris he can't endanger her.  )

Cloud looked at him.  "I was not aware I had given you veto rights, Galen.  Look, you're my friend, and I trust you.  I trust your judgment.  But how else am I to get his attention?  I **need** to speak to him…or anyone else tied into the Lifestream, right now.  You got another Cetra actively communicating with the Planet stashed up your sleeve?  Fine, bring him out.  Got another option?  Great, tell me.  But I have to do **something**.  This could be the welfare of the Planet and it's…kind of personal, too.  I trust Reno to keep secrets.  He's a TURK."

Galen sighed and cast his eyes down.  He shook his head slowly.  "I don't like it.  You could be hurt.  Or worse."

Cloud placed a hand on the red-head's shoulder.  "I know.  I don't much like it myself.  But I don't see an alternative."

Galen sighed.  "Here.  I have another way.  Give me your earrings."

Mystified, Cloud nonetheless obeyed.  Galen took them from him and rolled them around for a moment on his palm, then clenched his fist tightly around them.  A faint glow suffused his features, lighting him from within.  Suddenly, it stopped, and Galen opened his fist.  The backs of Cloud's earrings lay on his palm, but the stones were absent.  Instead, a small white orb rolled around in Galen's hand.  It could be no bigger than a centimeter in diameter, but Cloud knew instantly what he was looking at—a Holy Materia.

While Cloud was trying to figure out what to say, Galen pressed the Materia into his hand and slumped into a chair nearby.  "A Holy Materia," he whispered in a voice like dead leaves.  "Is a physical manifestation of a Cetra's soul.  You have to know how to do it, but any Cetra can learn how to make one.  That is about a quarter of what I am capable of producing—if I am without it for long, I will grow ill.  But if you activate it, you should be able to get my brother's attention."

Cloud frowned.  "Why couldn't you have done it?"

"Because it had to be you.  Or else he'll be talking with me, not with you.  You remember I gave you those earrings, all those years ago?  All that time, the tiny bits of my Materia that I gave you were absorbing a little bit of you.  It will ensure my brother comes to you, not to me.  It also means that you can activate the Materia."  He smiled slightly.  "Now, hurry up and do this; I'm getting a headache."

Cloud nodded and turned thoughtfully back to Reno's sleeping form.  He rolled the Materia absently across his palm for a moment, studying the pale face of the sleeping TURK.  Then he clenched his hand around the small orb in it and concentrated.  Pulling the power for magic was easy for him, and always had been—or maybe it'd been easy for Zack?  Anyway, the power came easily, and the Materia grew warm in his hand.  Of course, as with any spell, it soon faded, and Cloud was left feeling vaguely dissatisfied.  Didn't seem like that had worked very well…

Suddenly, the floor vanished beneath his feet, his surroundings faded into a thick haze, and he was left facing a familiar red-head.  Reno's hair was hanging loose around him, and he wore all white, not the familiar blue suit.  But he looked up at Cloud with the same cocky grin and streetwise stance he'd worn the whole time Cloud had known him, and Cloud didn't doubt for an instant the reality of what he was seeing.

"Hey, Strife.  What brings you to my neck of the Lifestream?"

Cloud smiled.  "Hi, Reno.  Good to see you.  I first wanted to apologize for being such a bitch to you the past…while.  I've not exactly been myself."

Reno bobbed his head.  "I'd noticed.  It's good to see you too, by the way."

Cloud sighed.  "And second, I wanted to ask you if you know where Sephiroth is."

Reno's back stiffened with shock.  "What?  Didn't you get him?"

Cloud shook his head slowly.  "Oh, I got him all right.  Five years ago in Nibelheim.  The one everyone was chasing was a clone.  Of course, I got him, too.  But I've been given reason to believe that maybe one or the other of them may not be as dead as we thought.  Unfortunately, Jenova seems to know where he is—unless she's bluffing as completely as I was when I told her I knew, too."

Reno frowned.  "I…don't think I know, Cloud.  I'm not exactly one with the Lifestream, here.  I'm just resting for a while, gathering strength.  Looks like the Planet wants **me** to be right on the forefront of the reconstruction.  It's a crazy world we live on, I'm tellin' ya."

Cloud found himself laughing an honest belly laugh at Reno's rather weak joke, and enjoying the sensation of it.  Reno looked surprised, then smiled, too.  Cloud shook his head, waving off the rest of his laughter.  "Man, it's great to laugh like that again.  I'd almost forgotten what it felt like."  Then he caught the strange look Reno was giving him.  "What?"

Reno blinked.  "You are…aware you just borrowed one of Sephiroth's mannerisms, aren't you?"

Cloud frowned.  "I did?"  He thought back, then shrugged.  "Damn," he whispered mildly.  "I guess I did.  Hojo's programming must have taken hold better than I thought.  I wonder what else I've been doing that Zack or Sephiroth would have done in my place."

Reno shook his head.  "Don't worry about it too much.  Now, I'm going to call some others and see what they may know."

"How long will that take?  Should I leave?"

Reno smirked, amused.  "Strife, this here's the **Lifestream**.  Anything I want to ask anyone else is nearly instantaneous.  The Cetra used to call it the 'Collective Consciousness' for good reason, you know."

Suddenly, at Reno's side, a familiar figure formed from the mist, launching herself at Cloud without even a pause.

"Cloud!  Oh, it's so nice to see you!"

Cloud gasped despite himself.  "Blessed…Aeris, is it really you?  Wow, you look great!"  He suddenly felt horrible.  "Oh, Holy, I'm so sorry I let you die, Aeris.  It's all my fault.  I should have done more to protect you!"

Aeris laughed.  "Are you still hung up on that?  Look, I'm fine here.  I died for my Planet, so it's made me a…protector of sorts.  I learn about the Planet and the Cetra of old and pass on what I know to those who can hear.  Like Reno, here.  He's uncommonly powerful for a Cetra, and a quick study.  I can't wait to see how he does when he wakes up."  Then Aeris seemed to grow just a little more delighted.  "Oh, Cloud, look!"  She turned to face the side, concentrating on a point in the pale green haze around them, and a figure formed in the mist.

Cloud's belly knotted up.  "…Zack?"

The handsome man smiled at Cloud, a familiar grin that made something happy bubble up in him.  He seemed washed with Mako green and vaguely insubstantial, but it was clearly him.

"Hey, Spike.  What's up?  Didja miss me?"

Cloud grabbed at his old friend, and was reassured to discover that he felt as real and substantial as any living person, despite his eerie appearance.  He wrapped his arms tightly around Zack, one hand gripping his belt, the other bunched in his long hair.  Feeling the warmth of that beloved body enfolding him, Cloud lost his composure.  For the first time since it happened, Cloud allowed himself to cry for Zack's loss.  He didn't cry neatly or quietly, instead allowing his pain to reach out in heaving sobs so powerful they hurt, and tears enough to drown on.

Zack held him close.  "Shhh, shh.  It's okay, Spike.  Really.  I don't blame you, and even if I wasn't there for you in body, in spirit I walked with you every step of the way.  Between you and Seph, you guys are my life, my happiness—I'd never forget you."

Cloud sobbed all the harder.  "B-but I f-f'rgot you!  I'm s-so h-horrible!"

Zack petted his hair and crooned.  "No.  No, it's not your fault.  It's Hojo who made you forget, and Jenova who deceived you.  You're blameless, babe; and even if you weren't, I'd still forgive.  It's what friends do.  And we've been through entirely too much together to let a little thing like this pull us apart."

Cloud nodded weakly against one powerful shoulder, feeling the torrent of guilt and shame ease slightly.  Finally, bit by bit, he got it under control, and looked up at Zack.  "Thanks, Zack.  I think I really needed that."

Zack smiled.  "I **know** you did."

Cloud turned back to Aeris, trying to get back to the task at hand.  He almost broke down again, seeing her and the sympathy writ large on her features.  He held it together, but only just.  "S-so," he began, but paused to clear his throat.  He hated crying—he always felt horrible after he got done.

"So," he tried again, more levelly.  "Do you know why Reno contacted you?"

Aeris nodded, her eyes aglow.  "Of course!  And isn't it wonderful?"

Cloud blinked.  "What?"

"Sephiroth, silly.  That he's alive!  It's just perfect, like right out of a fairy tale."

Cloud straightened.  "So, he really **is** alive?  Where?!?!  I have to end this **now**."

Zack shook his head.  "Cloud, what is the last thing you remember before Hojo took us?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?"

"One that needs answering, so spit it out, Spike."

"I threw Sephiroth in the Mako reservoir.  So?"

"In more detail."

Cloud frowned.  Why was Zack being so difficult?  Wasn't he happy to see him?  What had he done wrong?  He shook off that kind of thinking—it would take him someplace he didn't want to go, just now.  Instead he focused on finding an answer to Zack's question.

After the meeting, just before Andrews sprang The News on him—what was that little bit of memory that had floated across the surface of his mind?  _Sephiroth smiling, falling silent to his death, though the Reactor had echoed with screams…_  Cloud 'listened' hard to the memory, frowning when he found the screams to be his own.  Well, that made some sense—he **had** been in an awful lot of pain…  But that smile, what was it about it that unsettled him so?  But it wasn't the mechanical action of the smile, he realized.  It was the way the eyes smiled, too.  That had been Sephiroth as Cloud had never seen him before, a Sephiroth who was kind and gentle and as much a human being as anyone else.

Cloud's heart clenched.  That had been **Sephiroth**.  He didn't know how he knew with such certainty, but he couldn't afford to question it.

As if Zack had read his mind, the SOLDIER nodded.  "That's right, Cloud.  **Sephiroth**.  The Sephiroth you threw over that railing was Jenova's puppet; the Sephiroth who struck the Mako was the real deal.  As is the Sephiroth alive at the bottom of that reactor right now."

"But…how can he still be alive down there after all this time?  There can't be any sort of nutrients to keep his body functioning, and a fall like that would break anybody, even him."

Zack shrugged and looked at Aeris, who looked sheepish.  "Actually, we were kind of hoping you might know, Cloud," Aeris said.  "All I know is that he's alive.  Well, sort of.  He's awfully integrated into the Lifestream for a living being—even Cetra have difficulties communing so deeply with the Planet—the whole set of exceptions that is Reno notwithstanding.  But he's not completely in it, and he's certainly not dissolving into it, like the dead usually do.  His will's still at work, too.  Just the other day I saw him prowling around looking for Hojo."

Cloud frowned.  "Okay, if the dead dissolve…one, why's Zack here—or you, for that matter—and two, what makes Sephiroth think he can find Hojo?"

Zack smiled.  "Well, Aeris is a Cetra, and the Planet granted her special status when she died.  That's why she's here.  I'm still around because you're toting around a large portion of my…soul, I guess.  I can't dissolve until I'm whole again.  Think of me as a ghost and it'll be a lot easier to understand."  Suddenly, he grew serious, his eyes meeting Cloud's with grim intensity.  "Hojo is being supported by Jenova, at least a little bit.  He hasn't dissolved entirely, and is wreaking as much havoc with the Lifestream as he can until he finally does lose substance."

Cloud hissed.  "Will that little bastard **never** just give up and **die**?  I'm sick of his psycho self trying to ruin everything."  Suddenly, he paused.  "Wait, so Sephiroth's alive in the Lifestream **and** in the real world, and Hojo's floating around here, someplace, right?  Shit, I know why Sephiroth is looking for Hojo."

Aeris frowned prettily.  "We figure it must be revenge he's after, but…"

Cloud shook his head quickly.  "No.  Well, yes, but…  He said he was going to get Hojo for what he did to me.  He's…upset, maybe?…that I can't remember stuff."

Zack's eyes widened.  "Whoa, you've been in contact with him?!  Shit, no one on this side seems to be able to pin him down long enough to grab even a few moments' conversation with him."

Cloud crooked an eyebrow.  "Really?  Well, he keeps appearing to me in my sleep.  And he's promised to come back, too—every night, until I tell him to stop."

Aeris gasped.  "Oh, my gosh!  This means we know where he'll be tonight at a certain time!  We could **catch** him, check to see how stable he is, see if he's got any more designs to destroy the world, or whatever.  This is **huge**, Cloud, thank you so much!"

"No."  Cloud shook his head in a firm negative.  "You won't come to get him tonight, nor any other night.  Not while he's in my head.  I won't betray him again!  He's safe with me, and I'm gonna prove it to him.  If you come for him, so help me I'll…!"

Zack smiled.  "Cloud, just why do you feel that way?  Betray him 'again?'"

Cloud blinked. _ /What?  Why is Zack being difficult again?  Of course, it's because I lo—/_  Cloud reeled, amputating the thought as forcefully as he could.  But the word that never quite got completed hung in his mind with a nearly tangible presence.

"Blessed Holy.  I… I don't believe it.  It **can't** be true!"

Zack rushed forward and enfolded him in his arms again, just as Cloud started, again, to cry.  "Shhh.  It's okay.  There's nothing wrong with it."

"But I…I tried to kill him, when I…"  He crumpled to the ground, and Zack went with him.  "How could I have lo… felt that way, and still done my best to kill him?  What kind of monster am I to…**do** such a thing?"

Zack shook his head.  "You're no monster, Spike.  Just the kind of man who knows when something has to be done, even if you don't want to be the one to do it.  And it's what he wanted you to do, anyway.  He wouldn't have wanted you to leave him on the rampage, no way.  And he certainly wouldn't have wanted you to let him hurt you.  Cloud—"  Zack leaned forward to whisper into his ear.  "It wasn't unrequited."

Cloud's head spun.  It was like a box locked away in the back of his mind and forgotten had been opened.  He remembered lying, trembling, beneath Sephiroth on his fifteenth birthday and feeling the older man's heartbeat against his chest.  He remembered curling up on Sephiroth's bed on a day they both happened to have off, and spending most of the day cuddling and talking.  He remembered kinky sex all over the house with the two of them and Zack.  He remembered saying something stupid just to get an indulgent smile out of his lover.  He remembered Sephiroth, awkward and uncertain but with bright hope in his eyes as Cloud clutched a little ring in his hands.

Cloud's hand snaked up to the thin chain he wore around his neck beside the one that held his dog tags, the one he couldn't seem to part with, even to sleep or shower.  The one with a small, completely ordinary silver ring on it.

Then he remembered more, out of the haze most of the quest to save the Planet dwelt in.  The Sephiroth Clone's surprise at seeing him aboard the ship to Costa del Sol.  The Clone's cat and mouse gaming, encouraging Cloud to catch him.  The explanation of his plans to all of them in the Temple of the Ancients and his beckoning smile as he forced Cloud to give him the Black Materia.  The Clone's eyes lingering almost possessively on him as he pulled Masamune from Aeris's body.  The Clone's puzzling attempts to show Cloud what turned out to be a chunk of the real past, not the lie he believed in.  A hazy memory of the Clone, freed of the Materia Lattice in the Crater, scooping him off the cave floor before the WEAPONs could crush him, and bearing him carefully away.  The Clone holding his strike for a very long time in their final encounter, before swiping at him with a simple strike, not launching a kill shot, when he obviously could.  The hurt and incomprehension on his features when Cloud killed him and he dissipated into the Lifestream.

"Oh, Holy, he…and the Clone, too.  Oh, Zack, we were going to get **married**."

Zack smiled.  "I know.  I was gonna be there, remember?  Heck, it might have ended up a double wedding, if Aeris liked the day and I could round up all the people I wanted to be there."  He sighed sadly.  "That mission screwed everything up for all four of us.  I hope Seph does find Hojo and makes him suffer for what he did.  To us, to the Planet, to all the other poor souls he made into clones of Seph."

"I wonder who became that primary clone," Cloud whispered.  "Did he have a family?  A lover, a wife, children?  Do his friends still wonder where he is?  I guess I'll never know."

"Don't worry about it, Spike.  He's with the Planet now.  Heck, he may already have been 'recycled' into new lives.  He won't suffer any more.  All you have to worry about is yourself and our Seph."

Cloud sighed.  "Zack, do I have to point out that he's at the bottom of the Mako reservoir of a Reactor way the hell up in Mt. Nibel?  How do I get him out?"

Zack shrugged.  "Damned if I know, but I know you'll figure it out.  You know you and Seph are the brains of this outfit.  I'm just the moral support."

Cloud shook his head.  "Don't say stuff like that, Zack.  You're plenty smart.  Besides," and Cloud looked up at Zack with a skeptical twitch of his eyebrow.  "**Moral** support?  Not **my** Zack!  You must be a clone.  I didn't realize there were Zack Clones, too."

Zack smirked.  "Yup.  Just to piss Hojo off, since he hated me so much."

Cloud laughed and straightened out of Zack's comfortable embrace, growing serious.  "It's been so good to see you.  Both of you," he said, meeting Aeris's eyes over Zack's shoulder.  "Thanks for the help.  I'll find him.  I don't think anyone else is gonna understand, but I have to do it.  Man, Tifa's gonna be **so** mad at me."

"The woman just has anger issues, so don't worry about it," Reno supplied helpfully from off to the side.  Cloud had very nearly forgotten about him.  Reno seemed to realize this and quirked a smile.  "Don't worry; I won't tell anyone that the big, bad savior of the Planet was crying."

Cloud shrugged.  "They're all gonna thing I'm crazy anyway.  I don't see how it matters.  Besides, you're comatose.  Not much blabber mouthing going on when you can't even wake up."

Reno's smile faded.  "I'm not going to be under for much longer.  While I've been here, I found someone as important to me as Sephiroth is to you."

"Tseng."

Reno nodded.  "We never found his body, you know, and I wondered about that.  When I got home after traipsing all over the Planet after you guys, Taka was still talking about Tseng in the present tense, and seemed really confused about why I was suddenly getting custody of him.  They have a blood bond so close that I knew Taka had the inside track for anything Tseng related.  But by that time, I could only hunker down to wait out Meteor.  And then came this."

"What caused 'this,' Reno?"  It was a question that had been burning in the back of Cloud's mind since seeing the TURK in his hospital bed the first time.  It had to be related to all the other Mako poisoning cases, right?  Maybe knowing what happened would help them treat all the others…

"No such luck, I'm afraid."  Damn, they were at that mind reading thing again!  Reno laughed.  "This **is** the Lifestream, Strife.  Thoughts travel, here.  But no, I'm here because I happened to be, one—staring right at Holy when it came, which was just plain stupid; and two—I'm a Cetra.  The most powerful one left, apparently.  So the Planet wanted to grab me, get me trained, and impress upon me the importance of my task in rebuilding.  Nice, huh?  No say in the matter whatsoever, which I resent a lot, but is hardly a new occurrence.  I've done a lot of things because I had no choice."

Cloud bit his lip.  Maybe thoughts did carry in this place, because suddenly the 'air' around them seemed heavy with sorrow and old pain.  Reno had cast his eyes down and seemed to be studying the 'ground' intently.  Cloud was wracking his brain for something to say, when Reno seemed to shake his depression away.

"Ah, but that's over with.  Nothing to be done now.  I think the SOLDIERs are sick because Holy caused their Mako levels to surge and destabilize.  You saw how the Lifestream reacted to Holy; it surged up out of the Planet and traveled to where Holy was, no matter how great a distance that was.  Holy is like a big Lifestream magnet, and Mako is nothing more than super-condensed Lifestream.  It was like a big yank on people's Mako.  Some people absorb Mako better than others, and hold onto it better, too.  If they're strong enough 'magnets,' proximity dictates that they keep the Mako rather than Holy taking it.  Those who weren't strong enough to hold on to their Mako had a good deal of it pulled from them while Holy was working, then, when it dissipated and sent the Lifestream home, all that Mako went crashing back into fragile human bodies all at once.  That's why they're poisoned."

Cloud scowled.  "So there's nothing we can do about it, is what you're saying.  At least there's no continuing threat."

Reno laughed.  "Man, you woulda been wasted on the civilian world!  'No continuing threat,' he says.  I bet you think that way all the time, too, don't ya?"

Zack laughed.  "That's our Spike!"

Aeris smiled, but after a moment, her face fell.  "I…suppose it's time for you to go back now, Cloud.  Reno will be along right after you, so if you'd be so kind, please help him get everything back together, okay?"

Cloud nodded solemnly.  "Understood."  He hesitated.  "Will I…ever see you guys again?"

Aeris nodded.  "Of course!  I'll always be here, and Zack will be here as long as you're out there.  You're probably going to be recycled together, reborn together.  So don't worry."

Zack smiled.  "Go wake up your man, Spike.  Give him my love, okay?"

Cloud nodded, even as the Lifestream world faded and dissolved around him.  "I will, Zack.  See you later."

Then suddenly, Cloud was standing in the middle of a hospital room.  The light was too bright, and it was as though the contrast in his eyes had been turned up, so everything looked strange.  His legs felt distressingly weak, numb even, and he staggered to Reno's bed to prop himself up.  Taka, sitting on the bed, looked up at him with startled grey eyes.  Galen, in the chair beside the bed, struggled to rise and help support him.  However, Cloud's eyes were fixed on Reno's face.  Two slivers of glowing blue-green showed beneath his long, dark lashes, and even as Cloud watched, they widened slightly and a small smile curled up the corners of Reno's mouth.

"Hey, you," the red-head whispered.  Galen audibly gasped and Taka laughed.

Cloud smiled.  "Welcome back to the waking world, Sleeping Beauty.  I'd kiss you, if the both of us weren't already spoken for."

Reno laughed, obviously gaining strength back.  "But I didn't prick my finger!"

Cloud felt a very unmanly giggle bubble in his throat, and didn't bother to restrain it.  Life was good, right now.  His memory was returning, his friends and loved ones were doing well, and he had a direction to work in.  Depression could come back some other day—right now, he was going to enjoy its absence while he could.

There we go!  All done!  I hope you enjoyed reading this pivotal part!

…I guess I really have nothing to point out, except maybe Cloud's role reversal with Galen.  He was always protecting Aeris and telling her it was too dangerous and that she couldn't be involved, and now Galen's telling him the same thing.  smirk

Thanks for reading!

  --Akuma no Tsubasa


	7. Move Out!

Hi!

Yeah, I know—it's been a while. A long while. Having finally gotten internet and a replacement for my broken computer, school started back up again, and I found University takes up more of my attention than college did. Not to mention, I had THE WORST case of writer's block ever. I was over halfway done with this part, and I just couldn't write any more. Ugh. God spare me from ever having writer's block that bad again. shudder But yay! This is a long part!

I'd like to thank my beta, Allanon, for giving this the once-over, despite the holidays and his computer/email troubles. I also have to award '_Reviewer of the Chapter_' for the last part to CG! Thanks for all your comments, wonderful questions, and emails! hugs

**WARNING!** This chapter contains mention of masturbation. It isn't graphic, just mention of it via euphemism, but still. I don't know what you're doing reading a yaoi fic if something as silly as that can offend you, but some people are put off by that. Please, if this does offend you, be looking for this () and skip that paragraph. It is **right** at the end. Second to last paragraph.

And with no further ado, _All You Can Know_!

>break

Cloud paced listlessly down the broken Midgar street, kicking a stone along in front of him. This particular neighborhood had seen very little clean up or reconstruction, so far, but it hadn't been densely populated, or heavily damaged. Most of the buildings were half collapsed, and debris was strewn everywhere, but that was only a bit worse than when Midgar had been whole. Still, the people around here had been evacuated after Meteor in case the place destabilized.

It was eerily quiet, except for the heavy _clump clump_ of Cloud's boots, and the clacking of the stone bouncing down the street, and the skittering of rodents. Because of the quiet, Cloud actually heard the quiet footfall that betrayed another presence. He turned and saw Vincent standing just a few feet away, as solemn as always. Cloud nodded an acknowledgment of his presence, then turned back down the street. Vincent fell into step beside him.

The hush was thick as pudding, and it seemed that time had slowed, too. Cloud only heard an occasional footfall from Vincent, the rustle of fabric as he moved, and the sigh of wind through his hair. At last, it was Vincent's quiet voice that broke the silence between them, though it was pitched so that it didn't seem to upset the quiet of this forlorn place.

"I hear you've remembered."

Cloud shrugged. "Some." He hated the way his voice grated against the still air, not one with it, as Vincent's was.

"What do you remember?"

"I remember Zack. I remember Sephiroth." He sighed softly, and that sounded like it belonged in this place. "I still don't remember me."

"How so?"

"I know I fought in the Wutai Uprising, but I don't remember anything but the faintest flashes of it. I know I was with the Shinra Regular Army—**you** know that, everyone knows that—but I don't remember most of my time there. I don't remember trying to get into SOLDIER. I don't remember school. There's still so much I don't know about who I was. I begin to think I will never reclaim all of it."

"Hojo was good at that."

Cloud sighed in agreement, and they walked in silence together until coming to a large rock at the side of the road. Cloud sat down on it, and a few seconds later, Vincent's warmth settled beside him.

"So," Vincent said, raking his hair out of his face, and scanning the grey street with his red gaze. "Tell me about Zack."

Cloud smiled fondly. "He was my best friend. He was always there for me, even if I didn't know it. I remember when we were with Hojo, he used to sing to me and tell me stories. Maybe it was as much to keep him going as to help me, but it gave me something to anchor to. Eventually, we were put in soundproofed cells, and the silence was crushing, like a physical presence.

"But Zack was a good friend in the good times, too. He always had a joke or an observation or something to lighten the mood. And boy, Sephiroth and I together in the same room could get pretty in need of lightening. Of course, Zack and I were crazy together, terrorizing poor Seph right out of his paperwork castle." Cloud snorted. "He usually needed the time off anyway; he was making himself old."

Cloud fell silent, and again it was a long time until Vincent spoke again.

"You're wearing it."

Cloud blinked, blindsided by the apparent _non sequitur_, before he followed Vincent's gaze down to the ring on his finger. He hadn't even been aware he was playing with it, but sure enough, he was twisting it around and around. He had to force himself to stop.

Vincent continued. "You usually wear it on the chain." He extended a claw to lightly pluck at the thin Mythril chain about Cloud's neck, devoid of its usual adornment. "Now you wear it like an engagement ring. A gift from Zack?"

Cloud sighed. "I remember Zack…**and** Sephiroth."

Vincent was very still and silent for a long moment. "You were…engaged to Sephiroth?"

For the first time all conversation, Cloud turned to face his friend. "Please, don't say anything to anyone, okay? Not even Cid. I'll tell them myself—really, I will—as soon as I figure out how to do it. God, Tifa's going to be so mad. It's practically a lifetime ago, so I don't think anyone would hold me to it—especially since Sephiroth and I have both been dead as far as the world's concerned a couple times. But I made him a promise, and I mean to keep it. At least until I see him again. I don't know if I still want to be with him; it's been such a long time and so much has changed. I don't know what to do."

Vincent shifted to gaze levelly into his eyes. "Do you still love him?"

Cloud shivered. "That's what it all comes down to, isn't it? But the truth is, I don't know. I mean, part of me is Zack. Zack loved Aeris, but before that, he and Sephiroth had a thing, too, I think. And then there's my programming as a Clone, to adore him, if I couldn't be him. I don't want it to be because of other bits of me. If I love him, I want to love him for myself."

Vincent frowned. "Are Zack and your programmed personality not parts of you now? Are the feelings of those aspects of your personality any less valid?" Cloud frowned, too, pensive. Vincent spoke up again. "Something puzzles me about this whole conversation. When you speak of Zack, it is always in the past tense. Before, you spoke of Sephiroth the same way; yet today, you speak of him in the present, as though he were alive. 'Until I see him again.' Why is that?"

Cloud hung his head. "Because he **is** alive." Cloud heard the sudden surprised gasp from the older man. "I just found out. Somehow, he's alive at the bottom of the Mt. Nibel reactor. Jenova may know where he is. I have to get him out, but I'm not sure on my feelings about this whole thing, and I haven't the faintest idea how to get him out of there." He sighed. "This is so complicated."

A warm arm suddenly found its way around Cloud's shoulders. Cloud looked up, startled, to find Vincent's face very close to his. "No, it really isn't. Do what you want to do. If you want to save him and walk away, do it. If you want to save him and live happily ever after with him, do that. But in the end, you must decide. No one else can do it for you. I can only say that, either way, **I** will attempt to pull Sephiroth from the Reactor. He is Lucrecia's son; I must do what I can."

Cloud smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Vincent." Then they let the silence swallow them again, Cloud thinking about himself and Zack and Sephiroth, and Vincent thinking whatever things the ex-TURK found worthy of his consideration.

>break

Cloud stepped into Colonel Andrews's office and stood patiently before his desk at parade rest. He felt the Colonel's eyes on him for a long moment before he was acknowledged.

"Strife." Andrews leaned back in his chair, and Cloud stood just a little straighter.

"Sir."

"It seems you've got something to talk to me about."

"Yessir."

After a long pause Andrews sighed. "Well, spit it out, man!"

"Sir, I'm sure you remember the monster that was in the command center the other day. It worked for Jenova, which means that she's unfortunately still alive. She—through the monster—implied that Sephiroth is still alive. Since then, I've been…doing some research, and it seems that it's the truth. I believe I've found him."

Andrews sat straight up in his chair. "Found General Sephiroth? Alive? **Sane**!"

Cloud shifted uncomfortably. "I believe I know where he is, and I'm fairly sure he is alive…mostly. As for his mental state, I really can't say. He could be as sane as the next guy, or he could be cracked like a nut. I've no way to know, Sir."

Andrews frowned, settling back in his chair and steepling his fingers. There was a drawn out moment of silence as the Colonel considered what he now knew, and Cloud patiently waited for the older man to reach a conclusion. Finally, the auburn-haired SOLDIER looked up at him. "So, now you want to go and fetch him. You know he could very well try to harm you, or make another attempt to destroy the world; he could be nothing more than a drooling vegetable, incapable even of seeing to his own most basic needs. And you know that, whatever his condition, he will not be accepted quickly or easily. He will be shunned, and you with him. It's possible someone will try to kill him—vengeance or preemptive strike, it doesn't matter which."

Cloud sighed. "I know that, Sir. But if General Sephiroth is alive, and even remotely sane—or at least controllable," Cloud felt his lip curl in distaste at the very thought of a controllable Sephiroth, and forced himself to suck in a deep breath. "Sir, he knows Jenova better than anybody. She may have used a clone of Sephiroth in her attempt to destroy the Planet, but it **was** Jenova doing that. She destroyed the Ancients, called down Meteor at least once before, and her very existence has a terrible effect on the Planet and the Lifestream. We'll never be able to heal the Planet as long as Jenova lives, but no one has any idea how to kill her. Even the Ancients could only seal her away to minimize the damage. Sephiroth could very well be the key to getting rid of her forever."

Casting his eyes downward, Cloud sighed. He didn't know how much Andrews knew about the exact nature of the relationship between himself and Sephiroth, and didn't want to overstep. Still… "It's just that it's also kind of…personal, Sir. I don't ask for much—just a short leave to go attempt to get him back. The TURK Reno and a friend of mine you met at that meeting—Vincent—have both expressed an interest in assisting me. I wouldn't be surprised if a few others do the same, soon."

Andrews's grey eyes fixed on his face for a few moments, reading him like a book, and Cloud felt something defensive rise in him. Fighting down the desire to do **something** to make Andrews stop looking at him, Cloud settled for shifting with forced nonchalance. Suddenly, Andrews's gaze flicked to the ring on Cloud's finger, and a little bit of tension Cloud hadn't even noticed seemed to leave the Colonel's frame.

"Ah. Going after not just The General, but your promised, too?" He smiled slyly. "Well… I **suppose** I could allow you a little personal time." He grew stern again. "I know how much we could benefit from having General Sephiroth back and on our side. I'm not entirely certain it can be done, but if you **can** bring him back, I'd be more than delighted to have him here. So take some time, go do what you can. I can't spare any troops for you, but that doesn't seem to be a problem for you. Take a Company PHS so I can call you back if need arises." He smiled. "Now, go round up your army."

Cloud saluted smartly, a smile fighting its way onto his face. "Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!"

"And Strife!" Cloud turned back to the suddenly grim Colonel. "Be careful. Take no chances. If he's loony, the best chance we have of…containing him…will come when he's still weak and disoriented. We cannot afford another crisis; we simply can't."

Cloud nodded. "If it comes to it, Sir," he drew himself up determinedly. "I'll do it myself."

>break

"**_WHAT!_**"

Cloud winced at the collective bellow from most of his friends. Vincent was silent, and though he seemed impatient and curious, Red XIII also refrained from shouting at him. Unfortunately, they were the only ones. Cid and Barret were angry, Tifa was horrified, Reeve was shocked, Yuffie was terrified—and he hadn't even told them the good part yet. He made a quick decision not to, just yet. They didn't really **have** to know he'd been scant months away from marrying the man who destroyed Nibelheim. Really.

"Look, guys," he tried to explain. "If he is alive, we can't just ignore it. What if Jenova gets to him first? We're all screwed if he goes nuts again. I don't think I have it in me to kill him yet again!

"But what if he is alive and we get to him first? If he's sane, can you imagine the advantage we'll have with inside information on Jenova? Not to mention what a resource his sheer strength, charisma, and fame could be!"

Tifa shook her head vehemently. "Do you even hear what you're saying? **If** he's sane, **if** we get to him first… Cloud, remember that he burned Nibelheim to ashes, murdered my father and your mother, and set it up so Hojo got his hands on you! We can't just let a monster like that walk free! We should put a seal on that reactor to make sure he never gets out, and leave him to rot!"

Cloud felt anger stirring in his chest, but before he could snap at the **stupid** little **bint**, Vincent stepped forward. His flesh hand hovered dangerously above Death Penalty, and the metallic fingers of his other hand flexed into vicious meat hooks. His voice was dark and rumbled like monsoon season thunder in the desert.

"You might try, but I would never let you. That is Lucrecia's son, and I will not allow you to condemn him without offering him a single chance. He had as much choice in what happened as Cloud did—that is, no choice at all. Will you offer him no chance for redemption? Will you desert him now, when he couldn't need help more?"

Tifa glared for several moments more, before she had to look away from Vincent's unsettling crimson gaze. Others also shifted restlessly. It seemed as though they were going to stand about staring at their boots and making uncomfortable noises indefinitely, until Cid suddenly stepped forward.

"Well, I ain't got no love for that damned crazy menace, but I consider Vincent a friend—and a damn fine one, at that. 'Sides, Spike-boy there's the f-ing leader—ain't led us wrong yet. So you fools do what you want, but I'm gonna back up these fools. Even if this shit seriously gives me the willies."

Vincent stared at the gruff pilot for a while then smiled very slightly. "Thank you very much, Highwind."

Cid waved his cigarette offhandedly. "Oh, shut up. Damn crazy is what you are, and I've gotta be worse to be backin' you on this one. Shit." He took a long drag on the little roll, exhaling a slow, shaky stream.

Red XIII nodded solemnly. "I must also agree—even Sephiroth deserves another chance. If we condemn him for events he had little or no control of, then we must be prepared to be measured by the same standard. I would wish for a second chance in his place. And the potential benefits are staggering."

Reeve shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. Midgar needs me here, still. Although, I will ask that you try to keep me as up to date as you can."

Cloud nodded. "I'll try. Colonel Andrews gave me a company PHS. With luck, it's strong enough to cut through most of the interference around Midgar."

"Let's hope."

Tifa glared. "I don't know what you people think you're doing! This is **Sephiroth** we're talking about! No way does he need another opportunity to go on a rampage and kill everyone he encounters! Saving Sephiroth? 'He deserves another chance?' He's a monster! He's not worth the air he'd breathe! You should just leave him alone! Now at least he can't endanger the rest of the world!" She looked at Cloud. "I don't know what's gotten into you. Maybe that flighty blond memory has managed to forget your mother's corpse and Nibelheim ablaze. I haven't. So you can just leave me out of your lunacy. And if you'd any sense, you'd abandon it, too."

As she stalked off, Barret shrugged apologetically. "Don' know what that woman's thinkin' 'bout right now, but I gots ta think 'bout Marlene. Don' think I can come wit' you fools, this time."

Cloud smiled. "Don't worry about it, man. You take care of your little girl. And I'd really appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on Tifa, too. She's being too vehement on this, and I have to hope it's nothing important—that she won't do anything foolish."

Barret smiled. "Thanks. Maybe by the time you all get back, we'll have a bit of Sector Seven cleaned up for ya ta stay at." The big black man trundled off towards the tent town he was staying at, undoubtedly to spend some time with Marlene.

Yuffie scowled. "I **would **go, if only to keep you guys outta trouble, but I really don't think the old man'd like that much. Dad's coming to Midgar to try and negotiate a temporary peace. I kinda have to be with him."

"Then you do that, Yuffie." Cloud said firmly "Holy knows we need Wutai right now. That'll be one hell of an important job, so you better do it right," he mock warned.

The ninja grinned cheekily at him. "Ease up there, Fearless. I got it under control! If I can't drive Cait—er, Reeve—and all the other Shinra peeps mad enough to just give us what we want, I'm clearly out of practice."

Cloud smiled. "Someday, remind me to tell you about all the troubles Zack caused Shinra executives. Maybe you'll learn something new. Just go easy on Reeve, okay? We all know he's…okay, as far as Shinra goes. But I'm holding you personally responsible if none of the other suits have gotten rubber wallpaper by the time we get back."

Yuffie grinned cheekily and gave a joking salute. "Yes, Sir!" she exclaimed, then winced, and rubbed her side. "Probably a good thing I'm not going, anyway, with my ribs still busted up."

"Crap," Cid muttered, flicking his cigarette butt onto the ground. "Girl could beat most of the monsters near Nibelheim from her deathbed, and she's worried about a couple hurtin' ribs."

Yuffie smirked at Cid's backhanded complement, and headed off with a spring in her step that was probably only restrained from being cartwheels because of her healing ribs.

Finally, they were down to just the four who were actually going to participate in the unofficial mission. Cloud looked around at Vincent, Cid, and Red XIII, and smiled at them. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate your willingness to help." He straightened his features. "There's something else you have to know. Reno—that's right, the TURK—will be coming with us. He's awake, and he's offered to help."

"What assistance is he offering?" Red asked solemnly.

Cloud shook his head. "Nothing really specific, but it can't hurt to have him along. I knew him in passing back before…before. He'll be fine."

Vincent's quiet voice issued from behind his red cloak. "And what does he gain from helping us?"

Cloud shook his head. "You know TURKs all too well, don't you, Vincent? I'm going to help him with a task he has in exchange. It won't be a problem." The ex-TURK nodded. Cloud glanced around. "Any more questions?"

"Yeah, I got one," Cid growled, chewing on his cigarette. "How the are we gonna fish his carcass out of that reactor? And whatta we do if he'd crazy?"

"That's two questions, actually, but I hear you. As to the second, we go in fully armed and armored. Think final battle in the Crater. I know most of you are still packing exactly what you had for that fight. We'll have to rearrange a little to get Reno covered, but—"

"Well, I've got a Mega All, mastered Life, Restore, and Heal Materia, a Shield, and a pretty advanced Enemy Skill. That work okay?"

Cloud smirked at the grinning TURK leaning against a bent light post. "Just gotta make an entrance, dontcha?"

"You know it!"

Cid scowled. "Don't like it. You at least need a Summon, and where's all the offensive stuff?"

Reno glanced at Cloud. "They don't know?"

Cloud shook his head. "I promised Taka I wouldn't tell. Besides, isn't it yours to tell, if you want to?"

Reno studied him a moment, then smiled. "Yet another grown man wrapped around that kid's finger." He looked at Cid. "Suffice it to say, I will not take a life again, save maybe Sephiroth's—if he's mad—or Jenova's—should I ever be lucky enough to get my hands on her."

Cid raised his eyebrows skeptically. "A TURK with a no-kill policy? How does that work? Nevermind. I don't want to know. So long as you're useful, I don't care."

Reno smirked. "Thanks." He looked at Cloud. "I believe the pilot had another question?"

Cloud nodded. "How do we get him out? Yeah. I've been thinking about that, and I think I have a way to do it. Especially since we want eventually to drain the reactor and stop using Mako. I'll get into what details you need when we get there, and when I have a better idea what I'll be working with. For now, just know I have a theory, and it might involve some sorta dangerous stuff."

"Please." Cid rolled his eyes. "When is it ever **not** dangerous with you?"

Everyone chuckled.

They moved to the Chocobo Stables at the edge of the enormous shantytown the survivors of Meteor had erected at the outskirts of Midgar. The team's own gold chocobos had been moved there once Barret had sent word to Choco Billy while on one of his trips to Kalm to see Marlene. That was before he simply brought her back because it was safe enough for her to be in Midgar again, at last.

The group all selected gold chocobos, for obvious reasons. They packed weapons, Materia, plenty of elixirs and phoenix down. Greens for the birds were also strapped to the saddles. It was determined that Reno weighed the least of all of them, so he took one of the strongest chocobos and strapped on the rig that enabled Red XIII to ride chocobos. The bird had performed this service before, and only favored Red with a lazy blink; most of the others shifted uneasily when he was near.

When they were all packed, Cloud looked around at his companions. Every one of them met his eyes with determination and confidence. It wouldn't get any better than this. They were as ready as they were going to get. He nodded decisively.

"All right. Let's move out!"

>break

Cloud rolled over in his sleeping bag to find himself staring into bright green eyes. "Hello, Sephiroth."

The taller man sitting beside his bedroll smiled slightly, carelessly tossing one silver lock back over his shoulder and out of his face. Then he scooted a little closer to Cloud. "Hello, Cloud." He looked around at the inside of the tent Cloud was sharing with Reno. "You're not at home." He glanced at Reno's sleeping form. "Ah, TURK. He still looks good, even here."

Cloud shrugged. "He seems to be good, still. Ever since the Lifestream, he's been—I don't know, but he seems well enough. He's also agreed to help me look for you."

Sephiroth frowned, as if puzzled. "Look for me? Cloud, you should be at home, resting in your own bed—"

"**OUR** bed, Seph. And I'll rest in it when you're there with me."

Sephiroth looked shocked, his gaze jerking down to Cloud's left hand. He caught sight of the ring and smiled. "So, you've remembered?"

"Some. And I know where you are, now—I've even a lead on how to get to you. Soon we'll see each other again, face-to-face."

Sephiroth touched his face gently with trembling fingertips. "I—I'm looking forward to it." He flushed slightly, the color spreading rapidly over his fine complexion. "I had a gift for you, tonight, but I fear it's nowhere near so nice as your surprise to me."

Cloud smiled and rested a hand on Sephiroth's leg, just above the knee. It occurred to him that he was being very intimate with the man, when only days ago he hadn't known whether he wanted to continue their long-interrupted relationship. Somehow, it felt right to touch him like this, though. He scooted up so he could nuzzle gently against Sephiroth's leg and inhale his comforting, familiar scent. "Whatever your present is, I'm sure it's fine."

Sephiroth looked down at him, then reached a hand out to sift Cloud's hair through his fingers. After a long moment, he sighed. "Okay, your present." He stood, and Cloud immediately felt the loss of his warmth. Sephiroth quickly leaned down and pulled Cloud upward. Puzzled, but willing, Cloud obediently rose to his feet. Sephiroth waved an arm at one side of the tent, and the cloth barrier vanished into a green glow.

In that painful brilliance was Hojo.

Cloud reached automatically for his sword, and to his surprise, it was there. It swung down mere inches from the shivering scientist. Shivering…? Cloud looked more closely at the man who had obliterated his life.

Hojo was pale, even more so than he had been in life. There was a vague green tint to his skin that spoke of illness and the acid fire of Mako. His hair hung in greasy strings around his gaunt face, and great clumps of it were falling out, pulling flesh with it to leave raw, bloody scalp. The left lens of his glasses was cracked; the other was missing and the frame where it should have been was deformed.

He shook like a yellowed leaf in the autumn wind, and he looked like nothing so much as a reanimated skeleton, except for the hair falling from his head and pulped lips that were bruising red and violet. His lab coat was torn, and he was missing a shoe.

Cloud almost felt sorry for him, but he had seen and experienced far too much of the mad scientist's tender care to act on it. Instead, he waited for the pathetic ball of rags and death to notice him. He didn't have to wait long.

"Ah," Hojo rasped, and Cloud saw he was missing several front teeth from blackened gums. "The failure."

Cloud saw red for a moment before he recalled that he needed to keep an even keel in this. He had questions before he could allow himself to dispose of the vile creature.

"Ah, the little boy playing at genius," he murmured back, and had the distinct pleasure of seeing the bastard stiffen in offense. "Tell me, Hojo, how does it feel to have been beaten by the one you deemed a failure? And by a man whose life you stole and locked away in a little box to brood on his own failures? And by a remarkable 'specimen' who escaped your greedy grasp?"

Hojo coughed, and after a moment, Cloud realized it was meant to be a laugh. "Failure, I have not been beaten. Not yet. I am still here, still screwing up all your little plans and destroying your pathetic little world."

Cloud smiled grimly. "Really? Could have fooled me, because it seems to me that I lost everything to you five years ago, and that now I'm steadily getting it all back. Memory, status, friends, my lover…so tell me, how exactly does your tiny little brain arrive at the conclusion that you're still winning?"

Hojo looked furious. "I'll tell you, you little bitch! The Lifestream is mine! She promised it to me, and lo! I have it! You and your tiny friends can do nothing against my power now! Maybe my Sephiroth could, if he wished, if he were not dead by **your** hand. He was the pinnacle of human existence, and now he is gone, haunting the Lifestream as a mere shadow of his former glory."

Cloud looked askance at Hojo. "Look who's talking. You look like a lab rat I had once when we irradiated it with standard nuclear energy. Gotta love those alpha particles, no?"

Hojo snarled. "Shut up, you miserable failure!"

Cloud smirked. "Gee, you need new material, **Professor**. Because that one doesn't bother me any more. I have a load of friends, some old and some new, I got accepted into SOLDIER, and I just finished saving the world once. Whatever you think you're doing, I figure I can just make a career of saving the Planet. You're doing me a favor, hot stuff. I don't have to go looking for a line of work I'm qualified for that won't bore me to tears, anymore. Thanks."

Hojo roared incoherently, red-stained spittle flying from his rotting gums. "You little bitch! Just you wait! When she returns to make the Planet her own, you'll be sorry you ever defied her! And when you die—and she'll make sure you die in a horrible way—you'll regret crossing me. I'll make you suffer in the Lifestream until you beg for mercy, until the whole Planet writhes with you in agony!"

"Not if you are dead," Sephiroth said quietly. What his voice lacked in volume it made up for in sheer intensity. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees when the silver-maned man spoke, and his eyes were fixed with murderous focus on Hojo's twitching form. Hojo looked up at him, and cringed.

Sephiroth continued. "Well, Hojo, not so confident now, are you? Funny, as 'a mere shadow of myself,' I still seem to be able to terrify you into incoherence. I still managed to drag you back here, as a present to Cloud, here. The Failure. The only one who survived Jenova's reunion and the confrontation in the Crater. Not your precious Clones, not even Number One. Just the failed experiment. He failed only because you failed to break him. You broke his mind, screwed up his body, and destroyed his life, but you never managed to break his will. Poor Hojo."

Hojo hissed. "When I get my hands on him again, then we'll see about breaking his will!"

Sephiroth smiled, and it was a chilling thing, sharp as a shark's smile, and cold as ice. "As I said, not if you are dead." The tall man looked at Cloud. "If you don't mind?"

Cloud smiled, his own smile as chill as Sephiroth's. "Not at all. Go ahead."

Sephiroth turned back to Hojo, and suddenly his sword was in his hands. Hojo cowered and turned toward the burning radiance of the Lifestream in an attempt to escape, but Sephiroth was far too fast. Masamune sliced through the air, singing with power, and glowing with the radiance of the Planet's own lifeblood. Hojo's back split open from shoulders to pelvis, nearly parallel to the spine. Several ribs were cut in two, the spinal cord was bisected between the shoulder blades, and gore poured from the half-rotten body. Hojo fell limp, unmoving, not breathing, his eyes glazing over with death. He disintegrated into a pile of ash and Lifestream energy, and dispersed.

Sephiroth flicked the blood from his sword, then cast a fire spell at the blade itself, as a doctor might heat his scalpel to sterilize it. Sephiroth's face was utterly devoid of expression, and that alone spoke volumes of contempt for the creature he had just killed.

Cloud walked up behind him and rested his forehead against his lover's shoulder. The green Lifestream glow faded, and Sephiroth turned to take him in his arms. They sank down to the bedroll together, and sat in silence together for a long time. Somewhere along the line, Cloud sank into dreamless sleep, but every time he found himself dreaming again, Sephiroth was still there with him, and Hojo was still gone.

Morning found Cloud unwilling to leave his sleeping bag, a condition he seldom had to contend with. He slapped at Reno when he attempted to get him up, and lay there grumbling until the miffed TURK strode out to claim his share of the breakfast it was so easy to smell (and hear) Cid cooking outside. Once the redhead was gone, Cloud pressed his face into his pillow, inhaling the lingering, phantom traces of Sephiroth's scent.

()By the time he stumbled out of his tent—having enjoyed a session with Rosy Palm and her five friends, cleaned up, dressed, and packed up—there wasn't much food left. When Cid cooked, that tended to happen. The pilot was gruffly teasing the TURK about how fat he was going to get if he kept eating so much, and Reno flashed Cloud a self-satisfied smirk. Cloud returned one of his own, and didn't even care about the missed meal. The extra time in bed had been well worth it. He could almost see the crooked smile Sephiroth gave him when he was particularly relaxed, could very nearly feel his presence all around him, even now.

He was more than happy to get the tents rolled up and hop onto his chocobo. It was time to go save his fiancé.

>break

Hi, again!

I don't think I have anything to point out on this one.

I'll be writing an apology fic soon for my tardiness in getting this updated. If you have a request for the apology fic, say so in your review or email it to me, and I'll take it under advisement. It doesn't have to be FFVII. I'll consider FFVIII, FFX, X, Fushigi Yuugi, Vagrant Story, Xenogears/saga, SaGa Frontier, LotR, or any other fandom I'm familiar with. If it's not on the list, drop me a line and we can find out if I know it.

In other news, work has also begun on the probably-not-highly-anticipated _Scenic Route to the Promised Land: Sephiroth_! It's going to be quite a departure for me, since at the present, it is scheduled to be written in the first person, by Sephiroth himself! Please keep an eye out for it—it's still in its early stages so it may be a couple months. But when it starts coming out, make sure you review it and tell me how I'm using the first person POV. I don't use it often.

If you have any comments, questions, or ideas, feel free to contact me. You could be reviewer of the chapter, like CG! Isn't that incentive enough? grin

Thanks for your patience and fro reading through my rambling!

-Akuma no Tsubasa

P.S. Am I the only one who liked the old version of document manager better? The gods bedamned thing doesn't recognize asterisks at all, obliterating my secion breaks, and it won't see stuff as being in two different fonts, so my author's notes are no longer as easy to identify. Piece of junk! Come to think of it, no like that's just symbols and has no alphanumeric characters seems to be recognized. It just gets swallowed into the abyss of This begins to irritate me.


	8. Cloud's Big Plan

Hi, all!

Here we are again! I'm fast this time, but don't get too used to it. Thanks so much to Allanon for his time and energy in beta-reading this thing. It's rather long, this time!

No special warnings for this part. I have no reviewer of the chapter award to award this time, since the reviews were more or less of uniform quality. I **would** like to thank everyone who has suggested an idea for the apology fic! Polling is still open. Current stats for the poll will be posted at the bottom of the part, feel free to vote, or vote again!

On to the fic!

* * *

Deep, anxious silence descended over the group as they hiked the last half-mile to the Mt. Nibel reactor. Something similar had occurred upon entering Nibelheim, but this quiet was more intense. Assuming Cloud's idea for getting Sephiroth out of the reactor worked, they could all be facing a dangerous battle. Any battle was dangerous, really, and Sephiroth was not one to be trifled with under the best circumstances. However, this battle would in all likelihood take place inside the reactor. 

Mako reactors were dangerous places. The sole saving grace of Mako energy was that it didn't radiate like heat or light or normal Lifestream. In order to get poisoned, one had to come into actual contact with Mako. Unfortunately, the stuff got everywhere and was 'sticky.' It could be tracked places or could linger in tubing for months. In the best-case scenario—Sephiroth sane and willing to help them out—when they pulled Sephiroth from the reactor's Mako reservoir, he would be covered in sticky Mako. No one even wanted to think about the worst case.

Battle around the volatile stuff was a tricky prospect. Magic cast near it, especially if the Mako was steaming, as it was likely to do under the conditions present in a reactor, was likely to get out of control. A misdirected fire spell could turn a whole reactor into a fireball. It hadn't happened recently, due to strict safety guidelines put in place by Shinra Electric, but the specter of reactor disasters and Mako accidents still loomed large in the minds of all the people everywhere.

Newer model reactors had nearly complete seals around the Mako inside them. Their reservoirs were deeper down, and they used closed pipes in sealed conduits to shuttle Mako to and from electric generating stations inside the plant. As in the case of the Reactors of Midgar, they also had complexes around them, maze-like hallways, and multiple levels. This enabled security forces to be placed near the reactor without fear of harm done to the reactor, and less fear of poisoning for the guards. The technicians that actually worked with the Mako still had to fear it—on average, a reactor technician could expect one moderate case of Mako poisoning per year, and a severe case every three to five. For obvious reasons, most reactor technicians endured a forced retirement from reactor work after about ten years—after that, they generally couldn't handle the Mako anymore.

But despite the relative safety of the Midgar reactors, Mt. Nibel was a totally different beast. It was not a state-of-the-art reactor. It had an open, easily accessible Mako reservoir, condensed Materia from Mako in relatively easily broken pods, and had no surrounding complex and few security features. The whole place was just a big bomb sitting on the mountaintop, churning monsters out of its secondary reservoirs and splatter pools.

Still, if they wanted to be prepared for a real fight, especially against someone as potentially dangerous as Sephiroth, they had to be packing the best Materia they had. It was simply a matter of balancing one threat against another. A Mako explosion on Mt. Nibel would destroy the reactor and probably most of Nibelheim, and would have some bad effects for some places as far out as Rocket Town; Sephiroth's escape would endanger the whole Planet. If all else failed, an explosion of the reactor would probably kill Sephiroth, too. It would be their last resort.

As they entered the warm reactor from the cool mountaintop air, weapons were drawn and readied, and everyone with any sort of enhanced senses stretched out with them to scan for threats. Red audibly snorted, trying to clear his nose of the early summer pollen that floated around outside, so he could smell. Vincent stood as if inanimate, listening to the timbre of the reactor's quiet and peering into the dark—Cid, unenhanced, stood at his side, ready to attack at the vaguest signal from the ex-TURK. Reno also scanned the dim entry room with his glowing eyes, but his lips were moving faintly and an unearthly glow highlighted his features as he clearly used his Cetra abilities to scan in ways the others couldn't.

Cloud himself also looked warily around, straining hearing, sight, and smell alike for any indication of danger. Mostly, he focused on the readout panels on the level below the door, though; they were the one indicator of the reactor's status that he knew his companions wouldn't think to check, and with the possible exception of Cid, probably wouldn't be able to figure out, anyway. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Mako extraction was normal, Mako quality was high—expected at a reactor site, and Materia formation was low—meaning monsters were still being formed in some pods, while most others were empty even of plain old Materia.

Convinced the immediate area was secure, Cloud grabbed Cid to stay behind with him while the others cleared the rest of the reactor's readily accessible areas. While they did that, Cloud approached the monitors. Well, these weren't exactly monitors _per se_. They were simple readouts with simple purposes and understood only simple commands. Cloud's new memories of specializing in the Mako Sciences led him to one conclusion.

The Mt. Nibel reactor was a rusty, rotting, outdated, simplistic, antique hunk of junk.

Great news for him.

A modern reactor had complex user interfaces, error checking, and redundancies. Together, these simplified the day-to-day operation of the reactor, while eliminating the potential for most of the terrible accidents that had once characterized Mako utilization. Cloud's plan for getting Sephiroth out of the reservoir would undoubtedly have registered as a potentially catastrophic problem in a modern reactor's software. The reactor would **never** have let Cloud do it, not the way he needed to.

But… the Mt. Nibel reactor **was** a rusty, rotting, outdated, simplistic, antique hunk of junk. It lacked complex user interfaces, a relic from an age in which to work in a reactor, you were expected to know exactly what you were doing. It would do exactly what you told it to do, no second-guessing. Of the major reactor disasters, most had been blamed on bad reactors, yet almost all of them had been due to simple operator error. The new reactors were safer, yes, but the largest change was that the reactor's list of operations had been expanded greatly by making what had once been a series of small general commands in old models into one long, highly specific command. So the programmers had wound up with a much more user friendly, harder to program system with a long list of specific commands, since a new command was needed for every eventuality.

If Cloud had wanted to, he could have easily told the Mt. Nibel reactor to blow up, and it would have gone, sounding alarms as it approached meltdown, but it would not have protested. New models, you almost couldn't sneeze on the screen without it giving you some error or other.

Of course, the flexibility of the old system was just as likely to come back and bite him in the butt, since he could easily put a step out of order and blow them all straight to the Promised Land unintentionally. Scary. Useful, but very scary.

"Hey, Cid," he called over his shoulder at the older man. Cid grunted acknowledgement. "Could you help me look for the reactor manuals? Should be a couple, one's likely to be in a three-ring binder, the other would be about three or four inches thick, standard bound, teeny-tiny print."

Cid started poking around over where he'd been standing. Cloud found the maintenance records easily enough. They could come in useful. But he **needed** the manuals. He was plenty familiar with old reactors in theory, but this thing had been on the Planet longer than he had. They just didn't train people to be total masters of obsolete technology. The manuals would enable Cloud to figure out the order in which to do things to keep from killing them all.

Cid suddenly exclaimed, "Ha! Found the little f-ers!"

Cloud turned to see Cid waving the manuals over his head like some sort of victory celebration perilously close to the edge of the walkway. Cloud gasped and lunged at him, snatching them from Cid's grasp. "The Ancients Weep! What the heck do you think you're doing? I need these, unless we all want to die doing this!" Cid had the grace to look embarrassed. Cloud sighed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap. It's just…this reactor is a rust bucket. I could probably get money from an antique shop for half the bolts in this place. I can't do what we're here to do without endangering us, Nibelheim, and any other towns nearby without these documents."

Cid chuffed. "Yeah, I see whatcher sayin'. Sorry."

Cloud smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you decided to come. It'll be good to have someone along with something resembling techno-savvy. I'm okay with this stuff—gotta be to specialize in Mako—but my emphasis has always been on living things and their reactions to Mako. I'm pretty sure I'll be grateful to have you along before the end."

Cid chuckled. "Yeah, gotta have the mechanic along for the ride. What wouldja've done if I hadn't come along?"

Cloud shrugged. "Evacuated Nibelheim and had the guys stay back until I've done what I need to do? Honestly, Cid, I couldn't tell you. I was basically counting on you to come along for Vincent's sake. You will never know just how happy I am that you two became friends. Before we met you, I seriously thought he was going to self-destruct. Maybe not immediately, but eventually, and that it would be messy. I think having a violent, energetic, but generally happy energy like yours around really helped him. He's just too prone to depression, guilt, and self-blame not to have someone else around to counter that."

Cid frowned and chewed on a lip. "Yeah, think you're right. Right after Lucrecia disappeared the boy went all quiet. Tried to ask him about it and he just blew up at me. Thought he was gonna go all bestial on me, if you take my meaning."

Cloud nodded and shivered. Vincent had never turned his limit creatures loose on an ally—in fact, it seemed to be one of the few things that really terrified him. It was also what typically gave him the strength to subdue his inner beasts. Once there were no enemies for the monsters to direct their ire toward, Vincent's fear of harming a friend forced the limit creature back into the depths of his subconsciousness.

Cid continued. "Obviously, he didn't, or he wouldn't be around any more; he'd've taken off as soon as he came back to himself, and maybe sooner. But it was a close thing. I took off to give him some time to calm down. Went back a couple of hours later to apologize, maybe find out what was up with him, and he was so upset…never thought I'd see that cold bitch cry, but f- if he didn't. Kept blaming himself and talking 'bout how we we'd all be better off without him hanging around.

"Damn spooky, that. He just sat there, huddled in a little ball, and wished harm on himself for hours. I didn't want to leave him again, 'cause it really sounded like he was going to hurt himself, you know? So I tried to keep him from feelin' too bad, made him gimme his gun and keep his claws in sight. Once he calmed down I made him swear he wouldn't hurt himself, then I stayed the night in his room on my poor _Highwind_.

"Next morning he was confused, couldn't figure out why I stuck around all night. And I tell you, with the crick in my neck, I almost didn't know, myself. But I hung out with him all day. When it was time for sleeping, again, I made him swear to me again. Sorta became a ritual. He promises now without being asked; won't sleep if he ain't seen me to swear to. 'Course, he don't need much sleep anyhow, and probably wouldn't sleep if it weren't expected of him. Nightmares, you know?"

Cloud nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know them. Sorry I didn't do anything back then. Hell, I totally missed that he was that far gone. Shit, I'm such a bad friend."

Cid shook his head. "No way, don't you be doing this shit, too. Got enough trouble keeping Mr. Funeral's head straight to be messing with yours. You ain't no bad friend; you were busy then, not to mention f-ed up in the head. Besides, you know he tries to keep everyone at arms length. Thinks it keeps us all safe from him. Daft f-er."

Cloud chuckled. Only Cid could use insults as endearments with such a lack of concern for his wording.

The soft tap of a metal-clad boot on the walkway brought their heads up. Vincent stood, looking awkward and uncomfortable. He actually bit his lip, an endearing gesture that seemed terribly out of place on the coolly competent man. He glanced at Cid, who abruptly paled.

"Aw, shit, man! I totally didn't think! F!"

Vincent sadly shook his head. "Do not worry about it." He looked at Cloud. "I meant to tell you, honestly. But between Lucrecia's disappearance and Meteor, there really was no appropriate time. And you've mostly vanished since we reached Midgar after Meteor. I understand why, now, but it really cut down on opportunities to talk to you about…sensitive issues."

Cloud nodded. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. But I'm very glad you've changed your mind about yourself, and I'm happy Cid was able to help. I can't speak for everyone else, but I know I'd miss you a great deal. We have a connection, through Hojo—unfortunately—and also through Sephiroth; it's nice to have someone else around who's not likely to turn on him and try to kill him for no reason. Speaking of which…" Cloud glanced at Cid. "You ready to help me out with this, man? It'll be dangerous."

Cid rolled his eyes and spat his finished cigarette onto the walk, crushing it under his boot. "Weren't we already through this? Anything you're involved in is f-ing bound to be f-ing dangerous. Quit trying to give me an out—I'm not f-ing taking it! Just bring on the damn manuals and let's get the psycho out of that f-ing green shit."

Cloud laughed. "Fine. Give me that thick one, and look in the three-ring for start up procedures." They sat down to work under Vincent's watchful eye just as the others came back from clearing out the rest of the building. Everything was peaceful for the first time in a long time, and Cloud was able to immerse himself in his work.

* * *

A week later, Cloud sat rubbing at the back of his neck as he hunkered down over both of the manuals, rechecking the procedure he had scraped together with Cid's help. He'd been over them three times by himself, and he and Cid together had been through them at least that many times. But still, one last check couldn't hurt. 

Cloud's plan was an ambitious one. He was going to crash drain the reactor, its condenser pods, and its reservoirs. It sounded initially like a simple thing to just pump out all of the Mako, drop a ladder or something down from where the permanent ladder ended, grab Sephiroth, and get out. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly that simple.

First, and foremost, Cloud always came back to the knowledge that Mako was dangerous. Wherever they removed it to, they had to keep in mind that almost anything alive in the area would die, and what didn't die would mutate. They had managed to reverse the first and second stage condensers, both of which were involved in condensing Mako from Lifestream. This meant that just under forty percent of the Mako they pumped out would be converted back into Lifestream energy. That energy would return to the Planet easily and with minimal damage to any organisms. That would help a great deal.

Still, sixty percent of a Mako reactor's stores was an awful lot of Mako. They had decided to vent the Mako right onto the mountain. Due to the high rate of drainage, the entirety of the Nibel mountain range had much less biological diversity than anywhere else nearby, and Mt. Nibel itself had some of the lowest concentrations of life forms on the Planet, save perhaps a couple of desert areas. There really was no safer place to send the Mako to. Of course, a lot of the living things near Mt. Nibel were Mako monsters that might survive and even thrive on high levels of the toxic stuff. Cloud had Cid, the most normal looking one of them, run down to Nibelheim and warn the inhabitants of the increased risk of Mako poisoning and Mako monsters. The people had been building barricades as Cid left and stockpiling clean food, water, and medicines to deal with Mako illness. Cloud was satisfied with that and returned to work immediately.

The other big consideration for Cloud was that the pressure in the Main Reservoir had to be kept as constant as possible for as long as possible. If the pressure dropped, the Mako concentration would drop. If the Mako concentration dropped enough, anything in there would be open to Mako poisoning, and with most of the rest of the drainage still left to go, would probably die before the level got low enough for rescue to be possible.

To get around this problem, Cloud would start by partially draining the Main Reservoir. There was a system in place for the secondary reservoirs to drain into the Main one if it's levels started to drop, in order to keep its level constant. Once the channels between the Main and secondary reservoirs were open, Cloud could drain the system very quickly. All the secondary reservoirs would be depleted, then the Main Reservoir's level would again begin to drop.

At this stage, the Mako condensing pods would begin to be drained. The strange thing about Mako was that it retained a given concentration for several moments, even in the absence of the pressure that had forced it into that concentration. It would just barely be long enough for the Mako to be piped out to the reservoir, so as the reservoir was drained, higher density Mako was added, keeping the overall density the same. In this way, the level of the Mako could be dropped while maintaining the concentration to keep Sephiroth—or anything else in the reservoir—suspended. In order to get enough condensed Mako to do this, they had been frantically condensing as much Mako as possible all week, which had the added bonus of testing how well the systems to divert Mako from the secondary reservoirs to Main worked.

Of course, eventually, the density of the condenser pods wouldn't be enough to compensate for the smaller amounts of Mako. Then it would be critical that the remaining Mako be drained As Fast As Possible so nothing living in there would have time to absorb it as they came out of suspended animation and grow ill from it. Then, Cloud and Vincent—having the highest Mako tolerances in the group—would put on the protective suits for reactor workers, and head down into the reservoir. They would scoop up Sephiroth and drag him out of the reservoir to safety.

It was a sound plan. Everyone was pretty much boggled at the detail and effort he'd put into it when he first explained what he was planning. Everyone had eventually, in their own ways, told him what a great idea it was. Yet, something still bothered him, tickling at the back of his mind. It was maddeningly familiar, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As part of their attempts to compile a workable procedure for executing Cloud's daring plan, Cloud and Cid had sent virtually everyone to look at various bits of reactor hardware to determine if they were up to the strain. They'd gone themselves, often enough. The maintenance logs had proven invaluable in this endeavor. To Cloud's surprise, while the Mt. Nibel reactor might be old and outdated, it was probably one of the best-maintained reactors on the Planet. Of course, with Hojo running experiments up here and in Nibelheim, he could probably throw enough weight at the maintenance people to ensure the place was in good condition. The only problem was that, with monsters growing in the condenser pods, he couldn't let anyone near those systems. Therefore, the only part of the plan that worried him as far as the hardware went, was whether the pods and the various tubing used to transport Mako into them would be able to tolerate the stress.

So maybe that was what bothered him so much about the plan. That condensed Mako was critical to his plan, and it was also the least reliable part of the whole thing. He, Reno, and Cid would be wearing protective suits and standing by to repair anything that went haywire in the pod room—Vincent couldn't help so much with that, since his claw hand lacked the dexterity to do most of the repairs through the additional bulk of the protective suit. It didn't feel right to put his unease down to something like that, but he couldn't think of anything else that would be bothering him this much. He resolved to be wary. He'd already told Red XIII to be especially cautious. Red's job in all this, was to watch their backs. He couldn't fit into a protective suit and had no hands, anyway, but he was very good with magic. If anything in that reservoir threatened them, Red would be the first line of defense. At the very least, he could buy them the time to escape the reservoir and the lingering Mako.

With a sigh, Cloud set aside the manuals, the maintenance logs, and his carefully written plan. He should try to sleep for a little while. It had been a few days since he last slept. While this was not normally enough to bother him, tomorrow—or rather, today, by the time on his watch—the Plan would be executed. He had to be at his best. Besides, he sort of wanted to talk to Sephiroth beforehand. Maybe he could help them, in some way, or just be ready to go as soon as he became aware of the physical world again.

Although, Cloud would probably be just as happy with just a little dream-cuddling.

Cloud still oscillated on the matter of his relationship with Sephiroth. If he thought about it, he more or less agreed with the advice Vincent had given him. After all, he would never be the same person he had been when he had first known Sephiroth. Now, a little bit of him worshipped the man, just because he was who he was. Another part remembered what it was like to be with him as Zack. These bits of him were not likely to go away, so why not let himself love Sephiroth as so many parts of himself urged.

Yet, when he didn't think, when he just felt, he still felt a bit betrayed. Sephiroth **had** killed his mother, after all, had tried to kill him, and Zack. Further, Cloud **had** changed. In the five years since he'd last seen Sephiroth face-to-face, he'd been tortured, experimented upon, lost his memory, soaked up Zack's memories, escaped, lost Zack, joined AVALANCHE, faced Sephiroth clones, faced Jenova, regained some memories, killed a Sephiroth clone, saved the world, regained more memories, and joined SOLDIER. Sephiroth, on the other hand, had slept. Oh, there'd been some activity in the Lifestream, but overall, Sephiroth hadn't changed. Where did that leave their relationship?

Cloud didn't dare voice these concerns aloud, and certainly not to Sephiroth. He didn't want to anger the other man, especially when neither of them could do anything about it right now, anyway. Still, he knew one day there would be a reckoning, and that thought scared him, though he'd never show it. People were like sharks, scenting weakness like blood, and exploiting it. Until he could straighten himself out, he would make sure no one knew what was going on in his head. Although, he thought Vincent and maybe Red had already caught on—Vincent because he was more in Cloud's confidence right now than anyone else, and Red because he was just so damned smart.

But there was always the chance that things would work anyway, and the mere thought of the happiness he'd had with Sephiroth was enough to make him try for it. The first step of all had to be getting the other man out of the Mako reactor. After that, if he was sane, they could get to know each other again. If they both still thought they could have a relationship together after that…well, they'd just have to see. For now, step one—remove Sephiroth from the Mt. Nibel Mako reactor.

Stretching, Cloud made his way from the reactor. As he popped a kink out of his lower back, he wondered idly if Sephiroth had noticed the differences in him already. He tended to treat him the same as always in the dreams, but there was something in his eyes, something old and sad that seemed to indicate some awareness that something was wrong. Of course, Cloud had barely slept the past week, and before that, Sephiroth had been unaware of any memories Cloud had regained. He had treated him gently, but with the awareness that he lacked the memories of their time together. Maybe that was all it was. Cloud hoped not, though. It would be easier if Sephiroth at least realized that something was different about Cloud. Heaven knew that Tifa had seen exactly what she wanted to when Cloud came back thinking he was someone totally different. With a vague sense of depression, Cloud realized that he couldn't go through that again.

Nodding in response to the quiet greetings as he entered the team's little camp just below the mountain, but north of Nibelheim, Cloud stooped down by the fire to grab some dinner—no, breakfast, judging by the pre-dawn grey in the east. He bolted down enough food to hold him for a few hours while he napped. It was almost strange that the whole camp was up already. In fact, Cid was up fixing breakfast again, grumbling all the while about the god awful earliness of the hour; Reno was up out of TURK habit and a very Cetra desire to greet the dawn; Red enjoyed the calm of early morning, and was generally an early riser. Vincent was, by nature, a night owl, and had probably just not bothered to sleep that night; he would probably retire for a nap as Cloud was about to.

Cloud smiled slightly at his team. "Everyone, listen up," he said quietly. Everyone did. "We all know what we'll be doing today, and everyone knows their parts in it." Grave nods all around greeted his statement, though no response had strictly been necessary. "Good. Anyone who can should rest as much as possible—sleep, read, meditate, whatever. Failing that, check your equipment, and remember—it's not just Sephiroth we may face tomorrow. Holy knows what else has fallen into that reactor over the years." Grim faces stared back at him. They all knew this, but it couldn't hurt to say it again, to check one last time. Cloud smiled sadly.

"Thanks for helping be with this, guys. You don't know what it means to me."

Reno shrugged. "I'll get my reward."

Vincent sighed quietly. "I have more idea than most. And it means something to me, too."

Cid glared around the circle. "Shit, don't look at me!" He slapped Vincent's shoulder. "I'm just here for this fool." Everyone laughed, knowing that wasn't **quite** true, and accepting the answer and the sentiment underlying it.

"It is important to the Planet and its people. That is reason enough for me." Red said solemnly. Then, with what passed as a cheeky grin for him, he added, "And even were it not, I could not simply stand aside and let my two-legged friends fight without me. How would they manage?"

Cloud grinned. "Great, now that the sappy stuff's out of the way, I think it's time for at least me to get a little sleep." He stood with the dispersing group and headed to the tent he shared with Reno. Curling up on his bedroll, he made himself comfortable, listening to the sounds of the camp going about its business.

He heard Vincent settle down in the other tent, and after a moment, Cid—grumbling about how lazy everyone was being—joined him. Now that he was listening for it, he heard the ex-TURK whispering a promise, and Cid's gruff response. Meanwhile, Red hadn't moved at all, still by the fire. Cloud could see the flame of his tail waving in relaxed random motion through the pre-dawn gloom and the thin walls of the tent.

The slight hiss of grass against a pant leg betrayed Reno's presence outside the tent. "Say hello to Sephiroth for me," the redheaded TURK murmured through the wall of fabric, so quietly even the other enhanced ears in the camp wouldn't hear. Cloud smiled to himself as the whispering of the grass faded into the faint crunch of careful shoes on gravel. Reno was apparently going to stay up and keep watch.

Cloud listened to the soft sounds of the camp settling for a sleep, basking in their familiarity, and allowed himself to drift.

"I was wondering how long you were going to go without sleep."

Cloud restrained a sleepy chuckle and pressed against the hand petting his hair. "Sephiroth, even **I** cannot go without forever. I was just busy making preparations to get **you** out of your resting place."

Sephiroth's hand stilled in his hair. "Are you really that close?"

Cloud nodded and buried his face in Sephiroth's lap, which he seemed to be using as a pillow. "I'm taking a nap, then a few hours for the procedure, then you ought to be out of there. Though, not necessarily conscious. It's a lot of Mako, even for you. I'm hoping you'll be strong enough to help us in getting you out, but it's far more likely that you'll be poisoned. Hopefully not too badly. You've already got a permanent case of Green's Syndrome. If you absorb too much more Mako, you'll start mutating, and likely die. Stable mutations just don't happen often."

Sephiroth pulled Cloud's face around so they could meet each other's eyes. "Cloud, don't worry about it. I'll either be fine, or I won't. Either way, it won't be because you didn't try. I know you've done your best."

Cloud shook his head and sat up abruptly. "Don't! Just…don't. Don't try to comfort me like that. You just gather your strength, because if you just accept whatever happens and you die, I swear I will come into the Lifestream and kick your ass so hard my bootprint will be visible on your tongue in your next life. You just see if I don't at least make a passable attempt to."

Sephiroth seemed slightly taken aback by Cloud's vehemence, and Cloud blushed slightly, feeling like the awkward young man he had been when he'd last known Sephiroth. Holy, he didn't **want** to feel like he was sixteen again—he was not, and never would be again. So what if he was vehement? He was older than he had been, stronger, more assertive, if not necessarily more sure of himself.

He suddenly realized that Hojo had done a great deal more damage to him than he had thought. At his age, most men were quite sure of themselves, almost arrogant in their confidence—and they'd every right. Strong in body, old enough to have developed opinions and beliefs to defend, sure enough to flirt and fight and argue and all the other day-to-day things young men did without the constant gnawing of uncertainty in the backs of their minds. They grew uncertain, then got over it; grew unhappy, then made themselves happy again; they forgot things, and didn't find themselves raking desperately through their memories for whatever they'd forgotten in fear that some crucial part of them was lost forever.

Cloud **wanted** that, but as soon as the wish formed in him, it disappeared like the morning mist. He could never have it, and he knew it. He was…**damaged**, and there was no going back. But despite everything, he had gained a type of strength most people never got, never needed—he could endure anything, could **do** anything, if he set his mind to it. He **would** get Sephiroth out of the reactor, alive, and without injuring all the rest of them along the way.

He looked up, meeting Sephiroth's startled gaze levelly. He let all his determination pour out into his face as he spoke. "I will get you out of there. Period. You will do what you can to help, but no matter what happens, success or failure rests with me, and I. Will. Not. Fail."

Sephiroth nodded as if in a trance. However, a gleam kindled slowly in the Mako colored orbs, the exact one that had flashed there whenever Cloud had done particularly well in his SOLDIER training, when he'd stepped off the boat from Wutai following the Uprising, when he'd returned from his SOLDIER exams. That gleam was well known to Cloud as pride, with no small amount of affection thrown in alongside. Sephiroth was **proud** of him for something as simple as snarling his determination at him.

The impulse to turn his face away in embarrassment struck him, but before he could, Sephiroth had enfolded him in his arms. Pulled against the larger man's chest, Cloud could very well imagine that Sephiroth really was proud of him, and that everything was going to be all right. He clung to that belief as tightly as he clung to Sephiroth.

Everything would be all right. He **had** to believe it, so he buried his nose in the well-remembered curve of Sephiroth's neck, breathed in his scent, and made himself believe.

It was surprisingly easy.

* * *

Cloud sat up. The sunlight slanting into the tent was approaching an angle indicative of mid- to late-morning. It was exactly when he'd intended to wake up. Four hours of sleep was more than enough to run on for the next several hours. 

He exited the tent, stopping to stretch slowly right in front of the flap. He could feel the pull of every muscle as he executed the deep stretch and yawned languorously. By the fire, Reno snorted in amusement at him, so Cloud stuck his tongue out at the slightly older man. Reno returned the gesture, then offered him a ration bar. Cloud took the thing, which amounted to a brick packed with calories and essential nutrients—and tasted about the same. He pulled off the wrapper and tried not to break too many teeth when he bit into it. Still, he would need the energy, so even if the texture resembled concrete and the taste was like polluted Midgar dirt, he would eat it. The whole thing.

Reno laughed outright at the look on his face as he determinedly chewed through the bar.

Cid sauntered out of the tent he shared with Vincent, looking rumpled but bright-eyed. An extra few hours of rest had obviously sat well with him, as he seemed energized. A few moments later, Vincent glided out, fastening his cloak around his shoulders and face. Aside from that, he looked as put-together as he always did—no wrinkles in his clothes, his long hair smooth and untangled. There was a hard glitter in his eyes that bespoke determination. Red was still parked by the fire, watching all of them.

Without comment, Cloud reached a hand up to touch the hilt of Ultima Weapon. Vincent's flesh hand moved to Death Penalty, and Cid slung Venus Gospel across his shoulders. Reno already sat with his Nightstick across his knees, and Red's razor-sharp headdress was carefully arranged in his mane.

Cloud looked around at all of them. "All right." He quirked a smile at Cid. "Let's mosey."

As expected, Cid immediately grumbled about their leader and his wussy style of leadership. Those who had been with AVALANCHE last time they had gone to face a 'Sephiroth' laughed at the intentional sense of déjà vu. Reno seemed confused as to the background of the joke, but laughed with the rest of them just because he found Cid amusing.

Then, sobering all at once, they all turned to face Mt. Nibel's looming hulk.

They moseyed.

* * *

Hi, again! 

I hope everyone enjoyed the part! I want to point out that Cloud is confused, and is wavering between a couple viewpoints on his relationship with Sephiroth. You would be too, having gone through what Cloud has! Overall, it's sort of a boring part, though, isn't it? Don't worry—the next one will be better.

Here are the current scores for the apology fic poll. Main categories and their total count are in **bold**. Specific pairings are listed under the main category to which they belong, and their scores are part of the main category's total score. Unspecified 'just write in this fandom' requests add only to the main score.

**FFX -1**

**FF8 -2**

-Squall/Irvine 1

-Zell/Seifer 1

**FF7 -3**

-Cloud/Zack 1

-TakaMarlene 1

**Naruto -1**

**Xenogears -1**

-Fei/Bart 1

**Ranma 1/2 -1**

If you have any requests, please let me know! Pairings, genres, and fandoms are all legitimate. If you have already voted, vote again, if you like! If you want to further specify a previous request, you can do that, too. If I get enough votes, I should make a selection and begin work soon. If not, polling may be open through the next part. But you definitely want to vote early!

As usual, comments, questions, suggestions, and concerns are welcome. Review or email!

Thanks for reading!

-Akuma

P.S. For those on my update list, **please** inform me if you've lost interest or your address has changed! I'm getting back far too many bounced messages and 'that account does not exist' notifications. Thanks.


	9. Saving General Sephiroth

Hi, all!

Sorry about the wait. I wanted to update this back in March, but it's THE chapter, and then my beta was busy. I hope the completed work is up to snuff!

* * *

Excitement shivered down Cloud's spine, and anticipation hung heavy in the Mako-polluted air. All eyes were fixed on the dropping surface of the Mako in the Main Reservoir.

As they'd anticipated, some of the tubing in the condenser room hadn't been up to the challenge, and had ruptured. Great, glowing, high-pressure streams of Mako had sprayed the room, before they'd gotten them patched. Far more dangerous, though, one of the condensers had actually exploded. One of the flying pieces about the size of a dinner plate had come within inches of decapitating Cid, who was still swearing about it.

Aside from that, no huge or unexpected problems had popped up, much to Cloud's great relief. Yet, it seemed that as the Mako level fell, his anxiety rose. His heart was beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs, and every exhalation sounded to him like a reverent whisper of _Sephiroth_. He was going to burn his retinas straining to see the first hint of that familiar form through the overpowering glare of Mako.

The Mako in the reservoir was steadily shifting to a purply shade because of the higher concentration and pressure (see _Chi to Ase to Namida_ Chapter 13: Melting Away). His eyes being a vaguely purple-tinted blue that automatically filtered a good portion of the glare given off by Mako of this shade, Cloud could see rather better in the glare than most. Still, he knew he shouldn't be staring at the stuff—he just couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

His eyes drifted toward the spot where his memory said Sephiroth had fallen, then further to the left and out, in the direction of Mako circulation. His heart just about stopped when he saw a patch of vague darkness. He blinked rapidly and averted his eyes a few moments, then looked back.

It was still there.

He nudged Vincent and pointed, not trusting his voice. Vincent peered into the burning light for a moment, then nodded.

"I think I see something."

All eyes swung to where the raven-haired man indicated. Cid cursed and turned away after only a moment. "Whatever you say. Can't see shit in that mess—too f---ing bright. F---ing makes my eyes hurt."

After a few moments, though, Reno piped up with. "You know, I think you might be right. Kinda triangular dark spot, right?" He looked at Red who jerked his head in his version of a shrug.

"I may have some Mako, but my eyesight isn't all that great to begin with, especially with still objects in bright light."

"I see it," Cloud murmured, unable to speak any louder past the lump in his throat. Still, everyone seemed to hear him quite clearly, because they turned to look at him. He was barely aware of it though, his eyes still fixed on the Mako. Numbly, he stepped forward, moving like an automaton. He could hear voices at the edges of his hearing, and strained to make them out.

He tensed and snarled when a restraining hand caught his upper arm. Rounding on Reno, his left hand rose to slap him away—which would probably have broken every bird-like bone in the right side of the Cetra's face. But something in the other man's eyes made him hesitate just long enough for sanity to return. Guilt flooded him, and Reno smiled sadly at him, the expression crinkling the edges of the scars on his cheekbones.

"I hear it, too. But it's just echoes—memories of the Planet escaping with the Mako. You don't hear it with normal Mako—it's not condensed enough—but that's why the men who work at the bottommost levels of reactors go 'Mako-mad' so much faster than anyone else. If you listened, I bet you'd hear the whispers of your Materia. I do."

"Hey," Cid interrupted roughly. "What the f--- is going on? You make like to hit him, then he starts blabbering about f---ing voices in the goddamned Materia. The both of you are f---ing nuts."

Reno looked levelly at Cloud, then looked at Cid—calm, cool, composed… Serene was not a word most people would associate with a TURK, and especially not **this** TURK, but in that moment, it was the best word for him.

"There are voices, Captain Highwind. You simply cannot hear them. If you had enough Mako, or if you learned to still yourself on the inside, you could hear them, too. Cloud has more than enough, and Mr. Valentine is both still and Mako-laden. I am sure both hear some of what I hear."

Vincent nodded, but Cid simply looked skeptical. "Sure. But why do **you** hear them? Sure you got a little Mako glow, but you sure as f--- ain't 'still inside.'"

Cloud looked away from them as they could no longer hold his attention. Not with the voices and their constant murmuring. The conversation, however, continued.

Reno gazed solemnly at the edgy pilot. "I believe you have some knowledge of the Cetra." Cid was so shocked a light poke would probably have toppled him. Reno smiled humorlessly. "Do you seriously think Miss Gainsborough was the last? How did she happen to have such strong Cetra blood, yet manage to be the only one of her kind left? Only a **lot** of inbreeding could produce that. Of course there are others. I am one. You wonder why I no longer kill? Since Holy came, it would hurt too much to take a life again, so I will not do it."

Red spoke up. "How did Hojo not know this?"

Reno laughed bitterly. "I have never had a desire to be a lab-rat. My power has been sleeping the past few years, so there was nothing for him to detect. I certainly wasn't about to walk up to him and say 'hey, creepy mad-scientist man! **I'm** an Ancient; why don't you vivisect **me?**!' Besides, I had to protect my family. The fake IDs I made for them would stand up to most inspection, and mine was at least as good. But with the full weight of Shinra pressing down, looking for the truth… I could not put them in that kind of danger."

Cid swore and looked away. "Why the f--- is it that I always wind up hangin' out with the guys the f---in' weirdoes are most likely to be after? And why are they always members of the bearable segment of the human population?"

Reno smiled and roughly smacked Cid's arm, a friendly gesture he'd taken up with most of the group. "You know you just need your dose of excitement. You'd be bored without all us trouble magnets around."

Cid chewed thoughtfully on his cigarette. "True enough," he declared at last.

Cloud was reluctant to disturb a 'bonding moment'—and what was with Cid, anyway, that he was always the first to make friends with the TURKs the team associated with?—but a question had suddenly popped into his head.

"Reno." The redhead looked at him flicking a fiery lock out of his face and raising his brows in silent question. "Can you hear what they're saying? The voices?"

Reno frowned, tilted his head sideways as his eyes fell half-shut. His whole manner was of quiet concentration and fixed attention. His lips started to move a few moments before he started to really speak. "it hurts…mama, where…? Sing the glory… hurts… gather the scattered children…green, it burns…Sephiroth… take the world…green is pain …joy…**Cloud**!"

Most of the time, Reno's voice had sounded wispy and far away. The reverent whisper of _Sephiroth_ ran a chill over Cloud's back. But the exclamation of his name jerked Cloud toward the TURK. That one soft cry had been much louder than all the others, and had been inflected as only Sephiroth ever had.

Suddenly, Reno shook his head as if coming out of a daze. "Strife! He's awake, aware, though only barely. But there's something else in there with him. We need to get him out **now**."

Cloud startled, then pivoted on his heel to approach the edge of the walkway. His eyes fixed on the dark patch he knew signified Sephiroth. He could tell there were still several feet of Mako obscuring the silver-haired man from his sight, and felt despair well in him. "Ancients! We'll never be able to drain that much Mako off in time. I didn't think he'd come out of suspension so soon! And we can't just walk down there, even with the suits—we'd fry."

"I may be able to do something about that."

Cloud glanced at Reno skeptically, but hope was fluttering desperately in his chest. "Right, what? That's a whole lot of Mako, Reno."

Reno nodded. "If you and Valentine stay close together, I may be able to shift a bit of it aside directly in front of you and around you. I won't be much use for anything else for some time afterward, though. And there's always the possibility the power will be too much. But I think I can give you a few minutes."

Cloud considered a moment and came to the conclusion that it was their only option. "Fine, do it." He looked at Vincent. "You ready for this?"

Vincent's reddish eyes glittered at him as the dark-haired man jerked the helmet to his suit on over his braided hair. And Vincent looked very strange with a braid holding his hair out of the way—Cid had been staring since Vincent had finished putting on the suit and rejoined them with the braid already done. Cloud had no idea how he'd managed to do it with the handicap of his claw-arm.

"I am waiting only for you," the ex-TURK said mildly. Cloud smiled and pulled the claustrophobic helmet on. They carefully checked each others' seals and headed for the ladder that descended partway down the wall of the reservoir. Once at the bottom, Cloud carefully attached a roll-up ladder. It was a little something Cid had scrounged for them once he and the others had learned Cloud's idea. It was very much a piece of standard airship gear, made of sturdy but lightweight metal for the rungs, and very tough chemical-resistant Polypropylene cord.

Cloud tentatively tested its strength and the security of his knots, then looked up at Vincent with a thumbs-up. They started down, careful not to unbalance each other with their motions on the ladder. As Cloud's feet came level to the surface of the Mako, he glanced up, up, **up** to where Reno stood at the very edge of the walkway. His enhanced vision showed him the look of intense concentration on the TURK's face. He glanced back down again to see a whirlpool just below his feet.

Tentatively, Cloud stepped onto the next lower rung, watching in awe as the Mako swirled wildly, sparking fat blue-green sparks. The whirlpool deepened. Cloud stepped down again, and again, and again, until he and Vincent were climbing downward through the heart of a glowing tornado.

With a dull clank, Cloud's booted feet hit the heavy plate of the floor of the reservoir. Soft, almost musical clicks announced Vincent's arrival. Cloud looked upward again. Vincent was…oh, about one hundred eighty centimeters tall, maybe as much as one eighty-three (AN: For those who are not avid fans of the metric system like I am, that's in the vicinity of six feet). The surface of the Mako was around a meter above the ex-TURK's head (AN: a bit more than three feet).

The sight was unsettling. In fact, Cloud was reminded of nothing so much as the Mako tube he had spent five years in. He shuddered and swallowed against the nausea rising in his throat. Beside him, Vincent was visibly trembling. The ex-TURK was very slightly claustrophobic as a result of the years spent locked in a coffin—apparently, Cloud wasn't the only one facing fears down here. He gripped the taller man's slim shoulder and mustered a half-smile. Vincent met his eyes and squared his shoulders.

Determined, they stepped away from the ladder. The cyclone of Mako followed them, leaving enough room for them to walk through the middle and see a short—very short—way around them on all sides.

Shortly, they heard Cid's voice call down from above, oddly reverberating in the Mako. "Reno says to your left, about thirty-five degrees!" They made the course adjustment and continued.

Scant moments later, Cloud gasped as the long-slim blade of Masamune appeared in their small clearing. Reverently, he scooped it up in his hands, cradling it protectively. This was no replica or sister sword. Cloud had handled Masamune before—/_I did?_/—and he knew this was definitely the genuine article. He took an unsteady step forward, rapidly followed by another; Sephiroth could be no more than a few meters away.

He suddenly found himself turning aside from his previous course. His feet simply took over, and he made no attempt to correct them—they'd led him where he needed to be several times since Meteor, and they seemed to know better than he did what he was doing much of the time.

A black-gloved hand came into sight.

With a short cry, Cloud lunged forward, Vincent right beside him. Their sudden change of pace must have startled Reno, because the swirling Mako around them faltered a moment, the walls started a slow topple, before suddenly strengthening again. The area around them expanded, and suddenly fully half of a black-clad body was visible.

Cloud grabbed the limp hand and Vincent a leg, and they pulled him into their little clearing. Cloud carefully supported Sephiroth's lolling head, and watched as the long lashes fluttered. Mako-colored eyes slivered open, vaguely cat-like pupils sliding in his direction.

"Clo—" The weak voice trailed off, and the brilliant eyes shut once more, but exhilaration was already hammering his belly. He grinned at Vincent, who offered one of his rare smiles in return. Carefully, both men lifted the semi-conscious form of one of the most dangerous men to ever live, treating him as though he was made of glass. But Cloud felt his stomach drop out as Sephiroth's left hand came out of the bright glare of the Mako.

Jenova's head was still clutched in his hand.

Vincent saw it at about the same time Cloud did. With a cry of horror, he reached with his claw hand to bat it away. But the head seemed to suddenly **sprout** tentacles, thick slimy strands of flesh twining around Sephiroth's arm. Jenova's glowing eye opened, fixed with malevolent power on Cloud. He felt his limbs lock in place as surely as if he'd been petrified, and a tiny panicked corner of his mind was babbling on about Softs and Remedies.

It took a supreme effort of will to force his limbs back into action. Knowing it would be almost impossible to use Ultima Weapon to any great effect given their locale, Cloud decided Vincent had the right idea in using seldom-employed zero-range weapons against the horrific monster.

His hand slid to the knife he'd been hiding on his person as long as he could remember, and probably longer. He really didn't recall if it was his own habit or Zack's, but the knife was about to come in handy. It was a last-ditch weapon and extremely sturdy. It was where he'd equipped his Final Attack-Phoenix combination almost from the start. After a while, the others had simply stopped wondering where he'd stashed those two Materia. It took a moment to get to it, and it required him partially breaking the seal of his suit, but right now, he was rather more concerned with Jenova than with the Mako.

The short weapon scraped out of its sheath, seeming to burn with the reflected light of the Mako. A similar glint flashed off to his right where Vincent had jerked off the left glove of his suit and stood flexing his metal fingers into vicious hooks. As if they practiced it, the two of them leaped forward, attacking in concert, each attacking his writhing opponent wherever the other was not.

Vincent suddenly reached down and grabbed Sephiroth's still form by the wide belt that was the only thing explicitly marking him a SOLDIER. It might have been amusing—had circumstances not been so dire—to watch the delicately built man heft the General of SOLDIER with one hand and toss him several feet back toward the ladder. It was an act something akin to when Cloud hefted Ultima Weapon so easily in his hand. Sephiroth's arm came free of the semi-liquid tentacles with a wet squelch, and he hit the ground bonelessly, gracelessly, and in a position that had to hurt. The silver-haired man was almost immediately sitting halfway up, vomiting pathetically from the poisoning and its attendant vertigo.

Seeing Sephiroth was free, both Cloud and Vincent started to retreat. Meanwhile, Jenova's eye dimmed, still visible in the midst of the squirming mass of tentacles. It started to emit a weird shrieking sound that set Cloud's teeth on edge—Vincent's low growl was just barely audible through the racket the head was making.

Still, it was a matter of minutes—if that long—before Jenova started to make some appendages strong enough to carry her toward them. One on each side, they gathered up and supported the ill and barely conscious General, moving as fast as they could toward the ladder and freedom.

Fear made their fingers fly as they quickly tied Sephiroth to Cloud's back—Vincent may have been taller, and much stronger than the average person, but Cloud was stronger still, so carrying the ill man fell to him. Vincent waited for Cloud to start the climb and followed a little way behind. They climbed quickly, Sephiroth deadweight against Cloud's back. Cloud flinched and paused momentarily when Death Penalty suddenly roared behind him. As he resumed his climb, he glanced down to see Vincent looking over his shoulder and climbing with Death Penalty clutched in hand. Even as he watched, he saw the ex-TURK stop and swing around so one foot was hanging in space and he was facing away from the wall. The huge firearm bellowed again, Vincent allowing the kick to slam him against the wall before he turned and started climbing again.

There was suddenly an unearthly keening wail and Cloud wrenched his head around so fast he would probably need a potion for the pain in a few hours. Vincent was just clear of the Mako, which was now frothing and surging and crashing down on Jenova. The wail arose from the Mako itself.

A glance upward showed Cloud Reno's face. It was terrible, dark with fury, a glitter of mindless rage in his aqua eyes. But his eyes weren't even aqua now, but the violent green of Lifestream. Power crackled around him, tracing glyphs in the air around him, much like a summon, only so much more. He seemed the personification of the very wrath of the Cetra.

Cloud climbed faster. He did **not** want to come between a pissed off Cetra (all the pissed off Cetra?) and the object of his hatred.

* * *

There was something about rage, Reno thought distantly, about the way it strengthened and motivated, simultaneously granted clarity and blindness. He could feel anger and loathing and soul-deep revulsion welling in him as clearly as he could feel the cool slickness of Lifestream rushing in his veins. He could hear the half-forgotten voices of his stepmother, his father, his mother, and behind them the voices of all the Cetra who ever were. The Planet's own voice rose over all of it, thrumming with power and binding the voices of the People together.

The sight of Jenova made him sick. The volume of the Planet's cries only worsened the headache he felt building behind his eyes. It had selected him to be its champion, and now it **howled** for him to protect it. The Lifestream leaped into his hands, obeying the tiniest directions, the smallest exercise of will. The power was heady and frightening at the same time, and he half wanted to run. The TURK in him was screaming something about self-preservation and the **lunacy** of revealing himself to Jenova—the Calamity itself!

The Cetra in him desired the protection of the Planet and the living. It also demanded the blood of the monster that had so often come so close to destroying the Planet, and had practically obliterated his race.

The Planet's rage and the rage of his ancestors rose up and twined together, buffeting him like a small boat in a gale. He was, for the moment, simply a vessel, a conduit through which all that rage could reach out to smash Jenova.

It felt **great**.

The Lifestream screamed around him and he fashioned it into blades with which to cut the Calamity. It howled, and he formed it into a battering ram to smash the hideous monster and defend Cloud and Vincent. The Collective Consciousness had been rather quiet on the topic of Sephiroth, afraid he'd try to destroy the Planet again, but knowing that all the **real** Sephiroth had done was burn Nibelheim and kill in war. (A.N. The dead and living Cetra with connection to the Lifestream are the voices in the Collective, although all of the Lifestream participates in it. See _Scenic Route to the Promised Land: Reno_ Part 1.) They were willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt, for now, but Reno could feel that they were watching through his eyes even now, and had watched the rescue warily.

Reno himself knew Sephiroth would never get his second chance if they didn't get him away from Jenova, and no Sephiroth meant no Cloud to help find Tseng. So maybe he was a little selfish, but hey—every man had to find his own motivation in this world, right?

Wincing slightly, Reno jerked the Mako under his control out of the way as Red XIII opened up with a large ice spell. Ice was probably the safest element to use in the heart of a Mako reactor, but any spell striking Mako directly would likely turn them all to cinders. He half felt like chewing the lion out, but he had to admit the Cosmo native had known what he was doing. The cold froze the Mako around the writhing mass of tentacles that was Jenova, slowing it for a few more moments as first Cloud, then Vincent finally made the top of the ladder.

Reno was all for simply scrambling out of there as fast as possible, but Red called to Cloud. "Cloud! Can we still blow the reactor? The Planet is already injured enough and has its hands full with the part of Jenova already free. We should try to prevent this piece from escaping."

In response, Cloud loosened the straps holding Sephiroth to his back and passed him to Vincent, then turned to a control panel to flip through some readouts. He flicked a couple switches and turned a valve as the whole party shifted uneasily—Jenova was starting up the ladder. Suddenly, Cloud cursed.

"Damn it! She's locked up the compressors! I can't blow the reactor without them, unless I cast Flare right into the reservoir, and with the Mako level so low now, I doubt even that would do the trick." The blond waved them all toward the exit, Vincent still carrying Sephiroth's limp form. "We're just going to have to get out of here. Move it!"

They all piled out of the reactor, running at full speed. Reno was more than a little surprised that chain-smoking, unenhanced Cid kept up as the team tore down the mountainside, but knew desperation could drive some men to amazing lengths. Clearly, Cid was one of those who could do practically anything if the need struck him, including forcing abused lungs to work enough to get him down the rocks.

The thought might have been amusing, but Reno felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as the Calamity drew nearer. They were in a full sprint and the monster was **still** gaining on them. Behind all of them, Cloud cast a Haste spell over the party, followed quickly by a Slow directed at Jenova. The Haste took effect easily, but Slow seemed to have no effect at all.

They kept running, now sped onward by the power of the spell. It should have been enough to escape, but Reno heard a soft, wet sound behind him and Cloud cried out in pain, just as a shockwave struck. Reno and the rest of the team were flung to the ground. Vincent twisted mid-fall so he wouldn't injure Sephiroth, although one of the straps holding the ill man broke and they fell away from each other; Cid and Red curled into little balls to keep from hitting their heads as the earth heaved beneath them.

When stillness returned after just moments of chaos, Reno was surprised to hear Cloud cry out again, this time in full agony. Concerned and frightened for no reason other than Cloud was in pain and Jenova had to be involved, Reno rolled over to see what was going on.

* * *

Groggy and worried by the cries he could hear past the rushing in his ears, Sephiroth raised his heavy head to look in the direction of Cloud's last cry.

Grogginess evaporated into horror at the sight awaiting him.

A tentacle of that characteristic Jenova pink-purple-brown, at least the width of his wrist, entered Cloud's body at the small of his back, and emerged some few centimeters above his navel. It thrashed and writhed, and the blond jerked in response to each movement. Blood flecked the corners of his mouth as his throat worked to produce another sound of distress.

Unable to do more than twitch and scowl, Sephiroth wished desperately to go to Cloud, to hack apart the monster that had him, to cast spell after cure spell to eradicate the awful pain etched on Cloud's face.

Cloud's body was jerked suddenly into the air, all his weight suspended on that penetrating tentacle. The cries that had been escaping him before quieted into soft whimpers, and even they faded away after a beat longer. Jenova's face was visible over his pain-rigid shoulder, leering at them with victory and death in the cruel twist of blue-tinged lips.

"Little onesss," she murmured, the drawn out sibilance laden with unvoiced laughter. "I have one dear to you. Give me my son, and I will give you your…friend."

Panic shot through Sephiroth. He could not go to her. Never again. Her nearness threw the voices of the Planet into disarray around him—now loud, now quiet, distorted through time and space, and disorienting. That alone would drive him mad in short order. If she touched him, exerted her influence over him, the Jenova cells in him would react. The seed of instability that was likely an integral part of him would blossom again into the lotus-flower of glorious madness, and he would burn the world.

**Never. Again.**

A quiet, uninflected voice nearby cut through the desperate pounding in his ears, commanding attention by its very lack of volume. "Cloud would never stand for such a trade, and we will not accept it."

Craning his neck, Sephiroth was able to catch sight of blood-red eyes framed by the whitest skin and blackest hair Sephiroth had ever seen. The man who spoke seemed vaguely familiar, but Sephiroth couldn't think how. If he'd ever met a man so frighteningly beautiful, surely he'd remember it. Those unsettling red eyes stared sharply out of his ghostly face, fixed on Jenova with cool, reptilian intensity, unblinking and inscrutable.

Another voice rose, this one attached to a lion marked in tattoos, with a headdress in its mane. "You have to know you cannot simply walk away from this, now. Jenova, you have backed us into a corner—we cannot surrender Sephiroth, and we will not abandon Cloud. We are forced to fight you, and we have won before."

Jenova laughed, a terrible sound that made even the voices fall silent. "Oh, little fool! Before, you dealt with my body—now, you've also all of my mind to contend with. Further, you lack the power of your 'Cloud,' my son will not fight for you, and the rest of you are powerless, or have expended all your power. Tell me, little ones—with no weapons, how do you intend to fight me?"

"With our teeth and sheer will power, if need be." Finally, someone Sephiroth recognized; although Reno had changed a bit over the years, having seen him recently in the Lifestream meant Sephiroth was not as staggered by the radical change in his presence.

Jenova looked at him, then really **looked** at him. "Cetra," she hissed, as though it was the greatest insult imaginable. "I have cut down more of your kind than you can imagine, and scattered the rest to the winds like chaff. You are no more to me than they."

Reno grinned ferally. "Go on thinking that, slimy. You just go on thinking that."

Jenova looked angry for a moment, her unnaturally smooth face twisted into a hideous scowl. Just as quickly as the expression came, however, it was replaced with another—a wide smile.

"Very well. If you will not give me Sephiroth, so be it. He has lost before; it is only a matter of time before he loses again. I've no need for an imperfect weapon. I will simply make another."

All eyes jerked from the monster to Cloud as he screamed. The squirming tentacle piercing him seemed to melt into his flesh, and both he and Jenova were surrounded by a strange glow. In moments, whatever Jenova was doing to him yielded visible results.

Cloud's hair started to pale and lengthen, and his bones grew at a sickening rate, muscles slowly filling in over them. His pain-slitted eyes turned green, and the screams escaping his tortured form dropped into a lower register.

In moments, they were staring at a warped copy of Sephiroth.

Sephiroth was horrified. Nearby, an unfamiliar blond man started swearing so creatively, that under any other circumstance, Sephiroth would have been grudgingly impressed. Even the quiet, black-haired man murmured a single foul oath. But Sephiroth found he had no words with which to express his shock and dismay—they died on his lips as he stared at Cloud-not-Cloud, and congealed into a thick knot in his throat that tasted vaguely of death and Mako. His stomach rebelled, but his pride and his need to know what happened to Cloud would not allow him the time or energy wasted with being ill again.

Cloud suddenly twitched, and the tentacle on which he was still suspended lowered him to the ground. The moment his feet touched the gravelly earth, he took a very familiar stance, one Sephiroth had felt his own body curve into countless times. He held out a hand, and Masamune jerked from Sephiroth's limp grip to fly into the other man's hands. The sword came up parallel to the ground, and everyone else realized that Cloud stood like Sephiroth.

Burning green eyes seared over the group, but seemed to skip over Sephiroth as though he wasn't there. A tentacle reached up to stroke Cloud's cheek in a disturbingly affectionate gesture.

"Sephiroth…" the monster hissed, and Cloud turned his head in response.

"…Mother…" he murmured in reply, once-blue eyes lingering upon her. Jenova's terrible face twisted into a horrifying smile, and the tentacle stroked his face again.

"Ah, Sephiroth, my darling, my angel. You must help me. These pathetic humans have trapped me. Set me free, beloved child. Destroy these bags of flesh, and let us go to the Promised Land together."

Cloud's eyes emptied of all but a distant, manic gleam. "The Promised Land…!" He fixed his cool gaze on them, and Sephiroth felt a thin thread of the terror he had himself invoked once upon a time shudder up his spine. Cloud's soulless voice whispered, "Yes, Mother," even as desperation finally managed to lever Sephiroth to his knees.

Swaying as he felt eyes upon him, Sephiroth reached to seldom-used abilities—namely, the ability to siphon power from the Lifestream to support himself. The additional strength allowed him to gain his feet. "Jenova," he hissed, his voice slightly rusty with disuse, but still strong and dangerous. "You are going to **pay** for this. I tore Hojo's soul apart for what he did to Cloud; what do you think I'll do to you?"

Jenova laughed. "What do you think you **can** do, Sephiroth? Would you seriously harm your mother?"

"**NO**." Sephiroth's gaze landed on the man with the blood-colored eyes. No longer did he appear cold and aloof—his bloody eyes burned with rage, and his lips drew back from his teeth in an animalistic snarl. "No," he repeated. "You are not his mother, monster. **Lucrecia** was his mother, and I won't let you spit on her name by claiming him as yours. Lucrecia, a human being, a smart and beautiful woman—whom I loved, and still do, even though she's gone—**she** was his mother. They just used some of your cells to enhance the potential that was there from the beginning. You are no more his mother than the livestock that provided him meat over the course of his life."

Sephiroth felt confusion, then joy rise in him. Jenova wasn't his mother; in fact, she had only a tangential link to him.

"…Not…my Mother?"

Heads swiveled to not-Cloud as he uttered those short, confused syllables. He looked confused, upset, worried, and fragile. Sephiroth took the opportunity to call Masamune back to him; not-Cloud didn't even fight it, simply letting the blade slip from a lax grip as he turned blue-green eyes on Jenova.

Jenova let out a furious roar. The tentacle still connected to Cloud thrashed, tossing him like a rag doll, before it suddenly released him. He sailed through the air, striking the ground in a painful position, and laying still. Sephiroth had no idea how he made it to Cloud's side on his wobbly legs, but he found himself kneeling by his once lover, cradling Masamune in one hand, as he directed restorative spells with the other. Of course, as high as Sephiroth's Mako count was right now, spell casting was painful. In fact, all the extra energy was burning the leather encasing his left hand, leaving painful blisters. But they didn't matter—only Cloud did.

Fortunately, Cloud opened his eyes quickly and focused on Sephiroth's face almost immediately. "Seph…ir…oth?"

Sephiroth grabbed one of Cloud's hands in his. "Yes, I'm here. Are you okay?"

Cloud frowned. "What happened?" He jerked a little. "My back's given out. Can't feel my legs." At Sephiroth's look of horror, Cloud smiled slightly. "Don't worry. 'M okay. Old injury. Mako just brings back the symptoms. Be fine."

Sephiroth would have replied, but Reno cut in. "Sorry to break up your little reunion, here, but it looks like Jenova's escaped."

Sure enough, when Sephiroth looked back where the monster had stood moments before, she was gone. Cloud muttered a curse, then lay back with his eyes closed. "Man, I could sleep for a week."

Sephiroth felt fatigue settling on him as well, but still asked, "Do you need someone to carry you?"

The blood-eyed man stepped forward. "I will do it." Sephiroth crooked a slightly skeptical eyebrow, noting the man's slender frame, but he sort of remembered leaning on something warm and red for part of the time he was being carried, and there was no one else that fulfilled that requirement. It hadn't been the lion, because it hadn't been furry, but the blood man's red cloak fit the bill nicely.

Sephiroth was further reassured when Cloud smiled slightly and nodded. "Thanks, Vincent." The blood man, 'Vincent,' shrugged and lifted Cloud easily from the ground, careful of his claw-like left hand. Sephiroth wished he could be the one holding his Cloud against his chest, but he also wished someone would carry him—his knees were shaking when he stood, and his head spun. So far, his stomach was still in place, but who knew how long that would last.

Reno slipped a supportive arm around his waist just before he would have fallen. The man smiled and dragged one of Sephiroth's arms across his shoulders to further steady them.

"Thanks, Reno," Sephiroth muttered sleepily. The TURK smirked.

"Shit, whatever, man. Might be useful to have you owing me one."

Sephiroth smiled wanly. "Yeah, right. Well, if I go on rampage again, I'll be sure to remember that. Doubt it'll be of much use besides."

The whole group started down the hill. The blond, whose name Sephiroth still hadn't caught, scowled and lit a cigarette. "F---in' yay, team. Bust out the madman and let the crazy space bitch out. Just f---in' great."

Sephiroth would have agreed had he any energy not being used clinging to Reno so he didn't just roll down the mountain.

* * *

Hi, again!

Once again, sorry for the wait. I hope the chapter was worth it. Just for everyone, Sephiroth and Cloud, reunited at last! …Sorta. They're not in the best shape, right now, but you all should know by now that I can't leave them like that for too long. Well, Seph's been dead a few years, and Cloud spent most of that pretty freakin' miserable, but…

Results are in on the apology fic poll! And here they are!

**FFX****1**

**FF85**

Squall/Irvine-2

Zell/Seifer-1

Seifer/Squall-1

Squall/Irvine/Seifer-1

**FF7****15**

Cloud/Zack-8

TakaMarlene-3

Cloud/Sephiroth-1

Cid/Vincent-1

Sephiroth/Cloud/Zack-1

**Naruto****2**

Sasuke/Naruto-1

**Xenogears****2**

Fei/Bart-2 (one with Sigurd drunk featured)

**Ranma 1/2****2**

**Yuu Yuu Hakusho****1**

Yuusuke/Hiei, post Sensui -1

So, as you can see, it's going to be a Zack/Cloud fic—no one else even came close in the numbers! Still, a number of these were very interesting suggestions! I'd like to thank everybody who voted! Work has already begun on the fic. I gasp have no title—or even a working title—for it yet, but it is not in the CAN/AYCK universe. In fact, it's basically canon through the game, just presupposing a relationship between Zack and Cloud. It ought to be interesting, so please look for it soon!

Anyway, as per my usual, if you have comments or questions, feel free to contract me. Oh, and click the little button to review! Please?

Akuma no Tsubasa


	10. Aftermath

Hi, minna-san!

Sorry about the wait for this part! The internet ate it on the way to my beta, so it's a good month late. >.

Anyway, 'Reviewer of the Chapter' goes to Crimson Skies for a wonderful, detailed review! Thanks!

Okay, all. Big news—I have fanart! dances Humongous thanks to Quela for her beautiful pic! Go check it out at http(colon, slash, slash)imp. photobucket. com/ albums/ v231/ Quela/ fanart(percent sign)20and(percent sign)20such/ AllYouCanKnow. jpg(minus the spaces, with percent signs)! Also check out her profile for some really neat fics and to see her gallery at Deviantart! You won't be disappointed!

Now, on to the real reason you're all here!

* * *

Cloud slowly sat up, shaking his head and wincing at the stabbing pains in his head, lower back, and belly. His legs felt mostly asleep, hardly more than dead weight, and it took a lot more effort than it should have to lever himself partially upright. Once there, he discovered he couldn't seem to get any further. He snarled in frustration, but there was suddenly something cold and hard like a bar of iron pressed against his back, and a narrow hand placed on his chest. 

Cloud blinked against the glare in his watering eyes, then smiled at Vincent, who was approximately five inches away and carefully shifting him to a sitting position.

"Vincent," he tried to say, but it came out deeper than he intended and a bit slurred. It didn't seem to faze the ex-TURK, though. Vincent merely gave him an eye crinkle indicative of a smile.

"Cloud," he said quietly once the blond was situated. "How do you feel?"

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Like crap. How long was I out? And what the hell's wrong with my voice?"

Vincent's brow furrowed. "Do you not remember?" Cloud stared blankly at him. Vincent sighed quietly and handed him a warm mug he'd deposited on the bedside table. "Drink this," he commanded, continuing only when Cloud had had several swallows of what turned out to be some very oddly flavored tea. "We were in the Mt. Nibel reactor, saving Sephiroth…"

"Seph!" Cloud exclaimed. "How could I forget? Is he okay?"

Vincent placed a hand on his shoulder. "He is a bit ill and weak from the Mako, but is recovering quickly. He asks after you. I will let you see him, but only once I have determined your exact condition, and Reno says Sephiroth is up to visitors."

Cloud frowned at the thought that Sephiroth might be unable to see anyone, but subsided. "Okay."

Vincent smiled the vague eye-crinkle smile again. "Thank you. We pulled Sephiroth from the Mako, but Jenova was there with him."

Cloud swore. "Damn! I should have thought of that beforehand! Planet, that was such an obvious mistake." Cloud buttoned up when Vincent crooked a brow, but the gesture had no real malice in it. A simple warning, then, but with the ex-TURK it was far safer to just comply.

"Do you remember running down the mountain?"

Cloud thought for a moment. "I…sort of. I passed Sephiroth to you to try to blow the reactor, but she'd…gummed up the compressors, or something. Didn't have enough Mako pressure to make a decent fireball. We ran. I think I cast Haste… Then…?"

Vincent reached warm fingers to push down the sheet Cloud was draped in. His midsection was wrapped in bandages, and the faintest rust-colored outline showed against their whiteness. The wound beneath the bandage was clearly nearly perfectly circular, situated just above his navel, and the width of his arm about halfway up the forearm. He looked at Vincent, shocked. The somber man indicated the injury. "It goes through. Back to front."

"Tentacle?"

"Yeah. You were out two days." There was a silence. "While you were…impaled, something odd happened. Jenova tried to make you like the main Clone. Like Sephiroth."

Cloud shuddered. "But it didn't work, did it? I'm a **failed** clone, so it couldn't have. Not enough Mako, or Jenova, or Sephiroth, or **something**."

Vincent gazed levelly at him, the corners of his eyes turned down. "I am unsure what she did, or how, but for a moment, you **were** Sephiroth. At least, when he was mad and raving about his 'mother.'"

Cloud stared, shock resounding through his body. "No way."

Vincent's face softened slightly behind his cowl. His flesh hand stroked over Cloud's hair, calling his attention to the fact that the golden tresses now fell to at least his hips. Cloud hesitantly put a hand to his hair to touch it. "I…I was going to grow it out, sort of to spit at Hojo one last time, you know? Not this much, though. Shoulder length, maybe, 'cause as nice as it was to pet Seph's hair, I never understood how he managed to take care of it. Especially as a SOLDIER."

Vincent nodded. "Long hair can often be a detriment in battle. As a TURK, I kept mine short. I have to say, I rather like it long, though. Like it is now. And as for yours, you can simply cut it, if you wish. There are other things that may not be so easily taken care of."

Cloud swallowed the knot of apprehension in his throat. "Like what?"

Vincent stroked his hair some more, and Cloud's anxiety rose as he realized the older man was trying—however subconsciously—to keep him calm and relaxed using a method that worked on himself. He wanted almost to take back the question, but he knew that it was far too late.

"Good news first—Sephiroth is several inches taller than you, and more heavily built, especially through the arms and shoulders. While you made up most of that difference with Jenova's aid, you seemed to…contract upon separation. Possibly this is what made you unsuitable as a Clone. At least you will not have to relearn how to walk and fight with extra inches and weight.

"Unfortunately, not all the changes were so seemingly fleeting. Your vocal cords, for example, lengthened. It seems that they attempted to go back to your natural state, not completely successfully. As near as we can tell at this time, you may permanently sound…rough, like you have a sore throat. Though I am unsure why this change of all of them stayed, it is mostly cosmetic, anyway.

"Your back, however…" Vincent looked pained. "When she impaled you, Jenova must have done some damage to your spinal cord. Until we get to a real doctor, we won't know exactly where or how much, but neither Reno or I have been able to find or repair the injury. You seem to be mostly devoid of sensation below about the navel."

Cloud stared blankly at Vincent, who was—to the well-trained eye—visibly tense about his lack of reaction over what should have been one hell of a bombshell. Then Cloud laughed.

"Oh, that. Always happens when my Mako count jumps. When I had to…ah, kill Seph last time, he managed to damage my spinal cord a bit. Hojo fixed it with some Jenova and a whole lot of Mako, but the blasted thing kicks out if my Mako spikes. You saw I was in a wheelchair in Mideel after Meteor was summoned? That was mostly because I wasn't ambulatory, but I wouldn't let all those lab coats put me in a bed."

Vincent looked a little relieved, but also confused. "You seem far too flippant about such a debilitating injury."

Cloud shrugged. "I always get feeling back eventually. And besides, Seph didn't mean to do it—not really. And you are **not** going to tell him." He glared to show his determination. "I will not let you or anyone heap more guilt upon him." He sighed. "I don't know if we can go back to how we were, but I'd like to at least stay friends with him, if it's possible."

Vincent met his gaze, then inclined his head. "If you promise you will eventually tell him, then I will wait, unless lives are at stake."

Cloud frowned in thought for a while, then nodded decisively. "Deal." Then he looked pleadingly up at Vincent. "Can I see Sephiroth **now**?"

Vincent nodded. "I will go check." He swept out with a swirl of his heavy red cloak, leaving Cloud to sit in the empty room. It had to be an inn, not Nibelheim, but maybe anything between there and Cosmo Canyon. It was amazingly quiet, and still enough that the subtle scent of heavy wood, velvet, and incense that hovered around Vincent lingered for several long moments. Cloud shivered slightly when he realized it was quiet enough that he could hear the Lifestream through the ambient noise.

"Hey."

Cloud started and jerked his gaze up from where it had unfocused on the bedsheets. Staring at him from very close proximity was Reno. The redhead looked worried.

"Are you okay? You were kinda staring into space and…echoing the Lifestream—keening, you know."

Cloud frowned. He didn't think he'd been making any noise, but it would scarcely be the strangest thing he'd ever done. He huddled in the blanket. "Doesn't matter. I'm fine." He looked up at Reno and put on his best hopeful puppy face, the one that always got Seph to fix apple pancakes on Sunday morning.

"Can I see Sephiroth now?"

Reno smiled. "You don't have to bring out the heavy artillery, Strife. I have no problems with it, and Holy knows he's practically demanding to see you—even if he's still sick as a dog and weak as a newborn. C'mon. We'll just get you in this wheelchair…"

Cloud frowned. "Man, I hate wheelchairs."

Reno laughed. "If you want to try to walk, be my guest. But right now you're both partially paralyzed and sick, and I don't really have the strength to lug you around. And I doubt you want to worm crawl in to see the man—not a great impression to make on your reunion."

Cloud shivered at the use of a word that would never be the same for him again, but studied Reno's face, noticing for the first time the dark rings around his eyes and how his fair complexion had paled to pasty. His eyes were dark, his hair messy, his clothes rumpled, and his shoulders slumped—he looked even worse than he ever had before, in Cloud's memory.

"You okay?"

Reno shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, sure. I told you I'd be useless after holding back the Mako, didn't I? I'm just tired. And worried. I mean, come on—the Calamity! Man, that's just depressing. She wiped out most of the Cetra, and now she knows what I am. I'm toast. Unless you and lover-boy can kick her ass a lot faster than I imagine you could."

Cloud scowled. "We will. Somehow."

Reno looked at him, his flat eyes unsettling in how they seemed to see to his soul. "I believe you'll try, anyway," the redhead said at last. "And I guess that's more than I could have hoped for a couple months ago."

Feeling awkward, Cloud remained quiet. At length he said, "So, about that wheelchair…"

Reno laughed, though it sounded a bit forced. "Oh, yeah. The whole reason I'm here. Silly me. Too many blows to the head, I guess."

Cloud shrugged. "I see no difference."

This time, Reno's laugh was a bit more genuine as he took a playful swat at Cloud's shoulder. "Jerk."

"I try."

* * *

Sephiroth turned to face the door when he heard it creak open. He found he couldn't quite maintain his impassivity as Reno wheeled Cloud in, his lips twitching up into a little smile, despite his resolve to stay levelheaded and collected. It hadn't been all that long ago that Cloud hadn't remembered him—at least, not in the capacity he wished to be remembered in. Then Reno had been kind enough to give him an overview of what had happened since he had been defeated in Nibelheim all those years ago, and Sephiroth at last understood Cloud's wariness those first several times he'd visited him in sleep. 

He'd resolved to maintain a little distance to put no pressure on Cloud. After all that had happened, things weren't going to be easy. In fact, even if those terrible events hadn't taken place, the sheer fact that over five years had passed meant that things had to have changed, at least a little.

Still, seeing Cloud face-to-face after all this time made his heart leap in his chest. He stared, though, seeing and noticing the changes in his once lover for the first time. Oh, there was the hair, of course—that totally startled him, but he could tell it was one of the lingering things from Jenova's little…trick, because the blond kept batting irritably at it. Hardly the action of one who's grown their hair over several years to get it to waist length.

More startling by far was…well, just about everything about him. He had the same bird bones he always had, but the muscles over them had hardened and twisted into flesh approximations of steel cord. Cloud had always been deceptively strong; now, there was no deception about it. He was short, but could obviously kick the crap out of pretty much anything that came his way. Much of that change was probably due to the fact that he had very little fat left on his frame, and that made Sephiroth think of the five year span Reno had glossed over during which Cloud and Zack had been Hojo's test subjects.

The drop in body fat also took the obvious youth out of Cloud's face. Before, Cloud had had a little of the round faced, rosy cheeked look of the young about him, despite the unusual condition of early maturity common to the residents of the Nibel area. Now, the underlying shapes of his face stood starkly out—pixie chin, angular jaw, sharp cheekbones, vaguely almandine eyes…he was very striking. And the tracery of dark gold stubble along his jaw also helped emphasize this new, knife-edge beauty.

Still, the biggest changes were more in expression and body language. The Cloud Sephiroth had last known had been more than competent, but there had always been something of the cornered prey-beast in him—always ready for a fight or flight response. His wide eyes had looked first for danger and ways out of any situation, and even after the Wutai Uprising, they had been like sapphires: clear, crystalline, sparkling, and depthless.

Now, Cloud was a predator—not incautious, but fixing instead on his target with calm power. And his eyes were now more like lapis; every bit as beautifully blue as ever, but largely opaque and showing only the unruffled surface of the deep ocean of his soul, even with the glow of Mako filtering through them. Sephiroth knew from Reno that Cloud still struggled almost constantly with the pain of his past and his uncertain identity, but no trace of that turmoil showed itself outwardly. Sephiroth wished that were because he brought his old friend and love some measure of peace, but he knew Cloud had simply gotten better at hiding himself.

Still, Cloud's still-soft-looking mouth had tilted up in a little smile, too, and Sephiroth knew the boy-man he had fallen in love with was still in there. He'd changed, grown, and armored himself better, but he was still Cloud.

They sat studying each other for a long time. Or rather, Cloud sat, and Sephiroth reclined in the nest of pillows Reno had arranged for him so he could be something other than flat on his back in bed for this reunion. Between the Mako sickness, the gash in his side the Mako had preserved for five years, and the broken bones and ruptured organs falling from the catwalk in the reactor had given him, there was no way he was in any condition to sit on his own. He was peripherally aware of Vincent coming in and pulling Reno out of the room with a quiet warning to both of them not to tire each other out, as they still had healing to do. No kidding.

Finally, Cloud spoke, in a strangely rough voice. "Well, you do look a **little** better."

Sephiroth quirked a brow. "Oh, yes? How so?"

Cloud's tiny smile grew slightly. "Well, you're conscious, for one. Also, not quite so green."

Sephiroth let his smile out a little more. "Well, I haven't needed to be ill in several hours."

Cloud's lips twisted wryly. "At least you've been awake several hours. I woke just minutes ago." Sephiroth chuckled softly at the way Cloud's nose scrunched up in disgust at his own 'weakness.' The blond glanced askance at him, then shook his head with a little snort of amusement of his own. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh. I don't know why you're the one getting room service and extra pillows; **I'm** the one who got impaled." He patted his belly. "Still, it's healing quickly, and doesn't hurt much. I suspect Vincent slipped something into the tea he gave me earlier."

Sephiroth crooked a brow. "He takes care of you, then? This 'Vincent?'"

Cloud crooked a brow right back, in uncanny imitation of Sephiroth's own expression. "Yes, on occasion. I suppose he's been my best friend since Aeris died. And she was my best friend after Zack died." Suddenly, Cloud smirked, his eyes sparkling as they had so long ago. "Why? Jealous?"

Sephiroth snorted. "Yeah, right. Just because he's pretty, in a creepy way, and you trust him. That's nothing to be jealous over."

Cloud smiled. "Of course not. It can't hurt that he has no interest in me, either, can it?"

Sephiroth nodded, allowing a little of his seriousness seep into his expression, and they both fell quiet.

"He said…" Sephiroth frowned. "On the mountain. He said he knew my mother. My **real** mother, not that slimy thing. He said he loved her."

Cloud nodded somberly. "It's true. Her name was Lucrecia. She was a scientist involved with the Jenova project, and possibly married to Hojo—I've never asked Vincent, and he hasn't ever said definitively. I think they were lovers, for a while—Vincent and Lucrecia, I mean. Certainly, he loved her, with all his heart. She died giving birth to you, apparently, and he confronted Hojo about the experimentation done on both of you. Hojo killed him for it and experimented on his body. Once he was done, or bored, or whatever, Hojo locked him up in a coffin in the basement of the Shinra Mansion there in Nibelheim."

Cloud shook his head, a tiny, self-mocking smile on his face. "Isn't that strange? I grew up in that town, played in that building—against the rules, of course. You, Zack, and I walked past the place he slept for so long maybe dozens of times, and never knew he was there. Assuming Hojo didn't keep him somewhere else until sometime after you burned Nibelheim, and Shinra took over and rebuilt it. Although, I remember hearing something down there…I attributed it to you and Zack arguing, I think, when I had time to think about it." _"With Hojo,"_ he didn't say, and didn't need to.

"Anyway, he helped us against the Shinra. **Really** helped against Hojo and his creepy creatures—the man's a crack shot, and he obviously had a grudge. We killed that skinny little bastard, then moved on to destroying Jenova and your Clone. It seems we didn't do as good a job as we thought with Jenova, though I can personally certify that I watched that Clone's life force dissipate into the Lifestream."

"That's hardly your fault," Sephiroth murmured. "Jenova just doesn't quit. She was locked away and buried for centuries. If that didn't get her, it's obvious we'll just have to find something that will."

Cloud glanced at him. "There. That's something I missed about you—that attitude. We'll get 'em because we have to. Never any doubt as to the outcome, only how long it will take."

Sephiroth shifted a little on the bed. "Is that all you missed?" he asked, half teasing, a dash of sultry, and just a smidge hurt.

Cloud shook his head, leaning forward, his eyes fixed with disturbing intensity on Sephiroth's face. "No," he purred—purred!—one hand coming up to trace up Sephiroth's arm veeeery lightly. "That's just the first I could think of that's not too sensitive for public consumption." Sephiroth crooked an eyebrow, trying to ignore that teasing hand, and acutely aware that he was wearing only pants under the sheet. Cloud, naturally as anything, just tilted his head in the direction of the door. "You think they'd leave us **alone**? Not only are we unwell, we've been fairly serious enemies at times. Reno, as I'm sure you recall, can be pretty stealthy about eavesdropping; and Vincent could pick the sound of a pin dropping out of one of Zack's 'little get-togethers.'"

Sephiroth's eyebrow made a break for his hairline. "His hearing's that good? This may sound strange coming from me, but that must be maddening."

Cloud shrugged. "I never ask him."

Sephiroth frowned. "It seems there's an awful lot you don't ask him about."

Cloud gave him a cold stare. "I respect him, like him. I know about having things in your past it hurts too much to look at too closely, and so does he. We talk when we need to talk, and give each other space when we need space. That's all."

Sephiroth mentally backpedaled. "I'm sorry, I meant no offense. It just seemed like you didn't talk much at all with him, and that seems like a strange friendship to me."

Cloud nodded slightly, face softening in forgiveness. "Vincent doesn't talk all that much, anyway. Although, he gets downright chatty with me, sometimes. And there are certain things I don't talk about much, either. It works well enough. Besides, we both have ties to Hojo and to you, so sometimes those things we don't speak of, we **do** speak of. Other times, we simply don't need the words."

Sephiroth frowned as he considered this. It made him uncomfortable to think Cloud had a new best friend. Hell, all of this made him uncomfortable—Cloud and Zack had spent five years in Hojo's labs, then Zack had died, and Cloud had gone certifiable, and all of it was his fault. Still, he supposed that, on some level—deep, **deep** inside, where it was nearly invisible, perhaps—he was glad Cloud had someone to depend on. He shouldn't let his petty jealousy get in the way.

They sat together in silence for several long moments, Sephiroth simply breathing in the scent of his once lover and listening to his soft breaths. After that, though, Reno came in. He smiled at them, genuinely and very quietly told them to break it up. Sephiroth smiled slightly at Cloud, wishing him health, then Reno was wheeling Cloud out again.

Alone again in a room dimmed for the sake of his eyes, Sephiroth counted his blessings.

* * *

Hi, again! 

Well, it's a little short, but don't worry—the next part (in final revision at this very moment) is a real whopper, almost double the length. Anyway, I hope everyone liked this part. Of course I wasn't going to leave Cloud as a Sephiroth look-alike, but there had to be long-term repercussions. Actually, this was a nice opportunity to slip into Sephiroth's mind for a while—the next part is exclusively third person limited to him, so this was a good transition. Ooh, Sephy's jealous! We'll see an extension of that in the next part, which should be out fairly shortly.

Thanks for reading the fic (not to mention my notes)! Please review and tell me what you think! Also, be sure to check out Quela's stuff and leave nice comments! If you have any comments, questions, or concerns, please write to me with them—I'd love to hear from you.

Sincerely,

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	11. Painful Homecoming

Hi, everyone!

Yet another update! This makes me happy. I hope you all enjoy it too. If you're a big-time Tifa fan, you may not like this part so well. I do not consider what I've done to be bashing, since the next part explains things, but if it's going to offend you, please keep in mind this is only one side of the story. Side two is in the next part.

This part has come so quickly on the heels of the last that I can't name a reviewer of the chapter. Sorry. Better for you that way, though! I would like to thank my Beta, Allanon, for his hard work; and my back-up Beta, 'Keru-chan, for her suggestions.

Last, but not least—How many of you actually remember that apology fic I promised? Well, it's up! Entitled 'Willow,' it is a fairly sad piece, Zack/Cloud shounen-ai (as requested!) with a side of Vincent/Cloud yaoi on the side. The Zack/Cloud stuff is the important bit, though. Be prepared for character death and the errors of not having sent it to a Beta.

Annnnd….Onward!

* * *

The rainwater tracing trails over his scalp under his hair was starting to seriously irritate Sephiroth. And the stuff that trickled down his back was worse. Still, he endured it and thanked Holy that he was trying to stay inconspicuous—the hooded cape he wore to cover his distinctive hair was good protection against the weather. Vincent's cape was of some use, too, though with the open top, the man's raven locks were positively drenched, though he wasn't complaining. Cid seemed unbothered by the rain, except to swear colorfully over his sodden—and thus, unlightable—cigarettes. 

Red XIII, however, was clearly miserable in his special chocobo harness. He didn't like the harness much to begin with, saying it chafed. Given his preference, he usually ran alongside the birds, forcing the party to maintain a slightly slower pace than the gold chocobos were capable of, though still much faster than any normal chocobo Sephiroth had ever heard of. But even though the red beast was fast, even he could not manage to run across the ocean, so he was once again in the harness, visibly uncomfortable in the cutting straps of wet leather, and pressing as deeply as he could into the small rain shadow Reno's body provided.

The redhead in question was hunkered down in his saddle, looking about one step up from being seated like a jockey. He was even short and slight enough that Sephiroth could almost see the TURK in racing colors. The huge bird he rode so there was room for Red had been picked for strength, stamina, and docility; in other words, he was a big, lazy ball of fluff. But Reno had managed to coax the creature into a lot more speed than it had wanted to use initially. However, Sephiroth somehow doubted that now was the ideal time to tell the pale, wet, grim-faced man he should consider a racing career.

Finally, there was Cloud. Cloud who was visibly shivering and hunched down in his saddle more than Reno, even, the ragged streamer of his long hair trailing after him. Sephiroth wished for Cloud's sake that they hadn't run into this storm just off the coast of Midgar—they couldn't exactly stop and buy cloaks in the middle of the sea. The next place to stop would be one of the tiny towns on the Midgar coast—assuming those towns hadn't been abandoned when Meteor came down. It wouldn't be worth stopping anyway, so they were going straight to Midgar. And Sephiroth had to admit, at least to himself, that a cold, wet, short-tempered Cloud was almost as hot as the warm, dry, short-tempered version. Just less likely to appreciate the sentiment.

Cloud had been trying at all hours and in all kinds of places to get a signal through to Midgar, apparently ever since he finished speaking to Sephiroth upon waking. He didn't want to bring him into Midgar without warning the garrison first—and small wonder, since they were bound to shoot first and question later. Further, Sephiroth had, as recently as two mornings ago, lost a fight to his bedsheets, finding himself entangled and unable to escape. If pushed, he might possibly be able to take out a group of Shinra Regulars. Maybe. If the heavy armsman of the unit wasn't around.

Cloud, despite having woken later and having gone through one hell of a physically traumatic set of transformations and subsequent reversions, was better off than he was. Still, the blond continued to limp heavily and clearly lacked the energy to fight off the troops. Reno was still drained from apparently shifting a bunch of Mako with his mind—Sephiroth still wasn't sure of the details of that. Red was…well, probably up for a fight, in the temper he was in, and from the short run-ins he'd had with the man, Sephiroth thought Cid Highwind was the sort to always be ready for a good brawl. Vincent was unreadable.

Fortunately, a few hours ago, in the middle of the ocean, Cloud had gotten through. Midgar now had a heads up that they were coming, and that he was with them, **sane**, and unarmed—he'd been quite willing to hand over Masamune and all his Materia to Cloud. Only Cloud though—he didn't want anyone else attempting to handle his sword. He knew Cloud was strong enough to take its weight, and the weapon itself liked Cloud pretty well, so he knew the blond wasn't going to…lop off a limb or something by accident. Anyone else, though… No. Best not to try. He was still surprised Tifa Lockheart had, according to his memories, managed to pick up and clumsily wield Masamune. Of course, the memory of how the sword writhed in his grip that day, finally struggling free after killing Mr. Lockheart, would not soon leave him. He took it to mean the sword had known something was wrong with him, and hoped it would serve as a warning system in the future, should something go wrong with him again.

In the darkness of the storm, it was almost impossible to see, but Sephiroth felt his chocobo's stride change, heard each footfall as a wet _thump_ instead of the _splash_ it had been moments before and for the last several hours. Land then. Finally. Even if that meant there was perhaps another hour to go before they reached Midgar. Reaching Midgar had taken on a sort of homecoming-slash-marching to the executioner significance to him. He knew when he got there, everybody in the place would be passing judgment of some sort on him. Was he insane? Was he evil? Even if he was neither any longer, did he deserve forgiveness?

Of course, the thought of such judgments being passed down by the looming, suffocating monster that was Shinra was just ridiculous. Under any other circumstances, Sephiroth would be wracked by hilarity at the mere thought. Under these, he simply felt vague dread, mild confusion, and a whole lot of resignation.

No one would ever believe he wasn't a threat. And as much as that depressed him, he could find no fault with it. If he had simply been misguided—or even actually evil!—he might have stood a chance. Maybe he'd repented, or seen the error of his ways, or something else astoundingly cliché. But having been crazy…well, they said once you had one breakdown, you were likely to have another. He himself was not entirely certain Cloud and company should be trusting him so much. He knew Cloud blamed the whole affair on Jenova and Hojo, and left it at that, but Sephiroth knew the madness had been lurking in him all along. Mostly it just made him moody and withdrawn, but he remembered the sick joy he'd always felt in combat, the accompanying desire to destroy everything in his path, and knew he would never be rid of the specter of his own instability.

At least now he knew what he was capable of. He would simply have to keep a tighter rein on the feelings that had led him down that path, especially rage, despair, and betrayal.

Oh, no. Not a difficult task at all. Yeah, right.

After only a short time on solid ground, the rain slackened, then stopped, though it was more a matter of the fleet footed birds outrunning the storm front than of the storm actually stopping. Either way, it was nice for the rain to stop pelting them with its stinging cold needles. Cid pulled his goggles off his face and plucked at the sodden weight of his thick scarf. Vincent also tugged at his cape and lifted his hand from the reins just long enough to force his fingers through his hair and strip off most of the water. Cloud and Red simply shook themselves the best they could without unbalancing their respective chocobos, spraying water everywhere, Reno protesting as Red soaked the back of his shirt even worse than it had been before.

The storm clouds had obscured the light too much to tell exactly what time it was, but now that they were free of the sheeting rain, Sephiroth could see it was evening. They would probably reach Midgar around sunset or just after. Sephiroth wondered if it was karmic—he'd be riding in on the front of a storm on the edge of night, and just for him, the sky was likely to turn all those pretty shades of red. In his time with Shinra, he had learned to make an entrance when necessary, but now, when he wanted nothing more than to slink quietly into the city, get all the interrogation and accusation out of the way, and find a bed to curl his aching body up in—boom, Mother Nature decided to make a scene.

Looking ahead, Sephiroth was startled to realize he could already make out the city—he'd managed to brood most of the last leg of the journey. The thick haze of smog that had lingered around the super-city as long as he'd known it was noticeably absent, so the skyline was clearly silhouetted, dark buildings against a delicate yellow sky.

Although, now that he looked, he couldn't make out any of the familiar landmarks of the city. No Shinra Tower, no curve of the Plate, none of the lesser towers above the Plate… It looked like a totally different place. As they got closer, that sense only grew; a thoroughly alien form had replaced the once familiar city, looking almost biological in its curved, flowing forms. Shinra had never cared for beauty, only for power and functionality, leading to very square forms and sharp edges. Having grown up in Midgar, Sephiroth often found natural forms **un**natural. The almost living sweep of the city now sent a tingle down his spine and spiked anxiety through his brain.

Long minutes later, his eyes and mind managed to sort out that strangeness into recognizable elements. Pasted against the vibrant orange of the eastern sky—it was already reddening behind them—the city of Midgar had clearly been **twisted** into this new and exotic shape. He could make out huge metal girders folded over upon themselves like soda straws, sheets of metal feet thick turned into abstract sculptures as easily as aluminum foil by some force far beyond his comprehension or imagination.

That Meteor thing his Clone had summoned had done **this**? What in Hades' Hells had that idiot been thinking?

The twisted shell of the nearest thing he had to a hometown beckoned darkly, and Sephiroth realized there were hardly any lights. Of course, if the city was so badly damaged, it was unlikely there was power to spare on illumination. A visibly tilted section of the plate had a broad swath of light across it, but most of the rest of the lights in the city crouched by the flattened city's feet, and most of those lights seemed to be firelight, not electric. The dull blue-green glow from the reactors was still present—well, on five of the reactors, anyway—but even that was muted. The reactors weren't producing power, or at least not much.

Just as he had thought, by the time they reached the tent town at the edge of the city that was apparently their destination, the sky behind them had turned into a beautiful masterpiece of natural splendor, grading from blood red at the horizon to fire orange above the many hued clouds. Their chocobos obediently slowed to a lope as they approached the cluster of people waiting just outside the edge of the outermost ring of tents. Even from here, Sephiroth could see that most of those waiting were fully armed and armored SOLDIERs. There were no Regulars—sensible, since if he were a threat, they shouldn't be able to do anything to him, and he'd slaughter them without even slowing down.

Of course, he wasn't a threat, and an old housewife with a basket of laundry could take him down, right now. Still, it was nice to see that, despite the 'apocalypse,' someone remained with his head on his shoulders. He flicked his eyes over those present, looking for anyone he recognized.

They trotted their chocobos up to the mass of people, turning so they would dismount on the same side as those waiting for them. Fewer surprises that way, not to mention more polite.

As soon as they stopped, Reno popped off his bird and helped Red out of the harness—the big animal could get out on his own, but it was easier and faster if he had human help. The poor thing's fire-red fur was sticking up in every direction, though mostly dry from the wind of their chocobos' speedy travel.

Cid and Vincent dismounted without comment from their birds. Cloud dismounted, too; carefully, due to his sword's length across his back. Once he was on the ground, he pulled the carefully wrapped Masamune from its spot on his saddle and casually slung it across his shoulder. Sephiroth understood that he was trying to give those gathered the idea that he was perfectly in control of the situation, but he wished the blond wouldn't be so careless with his sword.

With a small sigh, Sephiroth, too, dismounted. When he was steadily on the ground—and trying not to think about the flare of pain in his still broken leg and torn side—he casually reached up and flicked the deep cowl of his charcoal grey cloak off his head.

He actually heard a number of strong SOLDIER hands smack onto the hilts of their weapons. He also heard lots of indrawn breath, gasps, and even a curse or two.

Pushing back some hairs that had escaped the braid he was wearing for ease of concealment—his hair color being somewhat distinctive—he looked over the crowd.

First, he noted the TURKs, a bald man and a blonde, neither of whom he knew, though the girl rather reminded him of Lark, the TURK leader before Tseng. The bald man wore tough gloves and was clearly a hand-to-hand combatant. The girl had a handgun and several explosives in sight—undoubtedly more were not in plain view.

The two TURKs flanked a fairly unremarkable man with dark hair and hazel eyes, and a dark goatee that made his just slightly more than averagely attractive face even more appealing. The man fairly radiated quirky charisma, as well as a kind spirit, a razor sharp intellect, and an iron will. This then must be the acting President Reno had mentioned, 'Reeve.' His clothes were rumpled, there was a tear in the knee of his trousers, and a smudge of grease and dirt streaked up one cheek into his hairline.

Sephiroth already approved. No Scarlet, no Heidegger, no Hojo, no Shinra of any description, and in their places, a hands-on type of leader. Holy knew, if Heidegger had been in charge, the whole place would be under martial law, which would have caused an uprising. Instead, this Reeve character had directed the energies of all the survivors into reconstruction. Very good. Not to mention, Sephiroth vaguely remembered the man from meetings years ago. He'd been secretary to the Secretary of Urban Development, and if anyone was going to make Midgar habitable again, it would be one of those involved in making it habitable in the first place.

The other officials present didn't interest him, so he looked over the SOLDIERs present. Standing beside the 'Presidential Party,' was Colonel Andrews, wearing the insignia of Midgar Garrison commander. Andrews was competent, intelligent, war-tested, and charismatic, and Cloud had come back from the Wutai Uprising singing the man's praises. Well, that explained the good military sense behind all of this.

A few of the other SOLDIERs were familiar, too, but none of them were really important. Instead, he turned his attention to the informally attired people standing near the interim President. He didn't know what to make of them. He recognized Tifa Lockheart among them—and the hate in her eyes made him bristle internally—but the man with the gun in place of his arm and the ninja girl with the **really** big piece of origami were completely unknown to him. Still, they looked competent and dangerous, even if Ms. Lockheart was the only one who looked like she would kick his teeth in even without provocation.

Finally, his appraisal of those present done, Sephiroth turned his head to watch Cloud. The blond strode confidently up to Reeve with minimal limping, saluted him and Andrews in true SOLDIER form, then smiled slightly at all of them. "Mission Accomplished!" he said, satisfaction rippling off him.

Andrews nodded his red head. "Good job, Lieutenant." Sephiroth started slightly at that. Cloud had been wearing one of Zack's old uniforms—Sephiroth recognized it by the color, size, and the rip usually hidden by the belt that was exposed when Cloud was in motion. He wore no insignia, and he certainly hadn't said anything. And, while he'd been able to find some things out while in the Lifestream, most of his knowledge of the material world had come to him through Cloud himself or the recently dead. Sephiroth hadn't even known Cloud had been accepted into SOLDIER, much less promoted to First-class—as he had to have been to hold officer rank.

Cloud, in the meanwhile, simply saluted again and looked at Reeve. "So, what next? I don't think it's a good idea to remain in the open."

Instantly, Reeve made a sharp gesture at Andrews, who signaled the SOLDIERs to form up. Sephiroth found himself suddenly in the center of an awful lot of well-armed individuals with the Presidential Party, Andrews, Cloud and the rest of his 'rescue party,' and the weird civilians. Just as quickly, they were moving, not terribly fast, but enough to make his leg and gash twinge again.

President Reeve was speaking again. "Why do we need to get under cover, Cloud? We expecting something?"

Sephiroth realized this new President actually deferred to Cloud's judgment, trusted him despite his relatively junior rank. Reno had mentioned Reeve taking part in spy action against Cloud's little group before he apparently joined it. Though Sephiroth found the thought of a suit like Reeve managing to infiltrate Cloud's supposedly motley crew rather preposterous, it certainly did seem that the man might have worked with them on occasion. Of course, perhaps that was partially due to Andrews, who clearly had a lot of faith in Cloud.

Cloud continued as if he was oblivious to the oddity of the President of Shinra turning to a lowly Lieutenant of SOLDIER for council. In fact, he probably was—he had an adorable blind spot as far as that sort of thing was concerned.

"I'd rather not get into it out here, but suffice it to say that right now I'm suspicious of everything that moves, and most of what doesn't."

Sephiroth frowned slightly at that. That was a sort of puzzling statement. Jenova was the enemy, right? Yeah, she was powerful and all, but surely without Hojo and his predilection for insane experimentation her resources were limited. Weren't they? But Cloud was treating this like an extremely dangerous situation, and Sephiroth would be the first to acknowledge that he'd been rather…out of the loop for the past few years. Cloud obviously knew something he didn't and had decided to take no chances. Sephiroth could respect that. After all, Cloud had been one tough customer as a Regular, became a war hero by putting himself through a really painful Materia overdraw, survived Nibelheim and Sephiroth's madness, then went on to save the Planet. If that wasn't a professional résumé that demanded respect, nothing was.

They walked in silence for several minutes, before the sky suddenly opened up and poured rain down upon them with a deafening crack of thunder. Red gave a small, frustrated huff, barely audible over the rain, while Reno let out a very loud groan of complaint. Cid cocked one eye at the dark-bottomed clouds—still red above from the dying light—and sighed. "Didn't we just do this f---ing number?" he grumbled. Vincent and Cloud simply continued in silence.

At last, the group halted outside a beat up, but seemingly sound building. Andrews dismissed the majority of the troops to standby positions, set a portion of those who remained to patrolling around the building and its immediate vicinity, and brought the rest inside with them.

Once inside, Sephiroth's nose twitched at the familiar and hated reek of illness and antiseptic. Without meaning to, he stopped on the threshold of what was obviously a hospital, fighting for his composure. He'd always hated the smell of hospitals, largely because they reminded him of Hojo's labs. He hadn't actually spent that much time in the lab when he looked back on it, but there had never been an instance in which the time he did spend there was anything but unpleasant. Unless you counted traumatic separately.

He was rudely shoved from behind and staggered forward a step. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Ms. Lockheart, her furious glare still in place and her hand still outstretched from pushing him forward. She sneered at him; under different circumstances, he would have found her lack of fear refreshing. Right now, she was simply intensifying the irrational urge to **run** as fast as he could, to escape, somehow.

"Don't go falling behind, now," she said coolly.

Cloud turned back to look at them. "What's going on?"

Tifa jumped in before Sephiroth could even decide to, as usual, not speak. "His Evilness here was just blocking the doorway. I moved him."

Cloud looked into Sephiroth's face, which he kept perfectly blank, as per usual while in company—especially Shinra company. Despite five plus years, their respective bouts of insanity, and what had to be the mother of all lovers' quarrels, Cloud could still apparently divine Sephiroth's thoughts and feelings out of thin air—because Sephiroth knew for certain his face wasn't giving him away; it was as blank as ever. Yet still, Cloud's face softened slightly.

"Give him a minute, Tifa. Hospitals don't have the most pleasant of associations for those of us who spent time in Hojo's tender care. It's mostly the smell, you know? At least they don't have as many Mako sick out in the hallways anymore—that smell would really do it, wouldn't it?"

The last question, half rhetorical as it was, prompted a little nod out of him, though he was careful not to let his blank mask slip. Ms. Lockheart's perfectly understandable animosity was rubbing him the wrong way, setting his teeth on edge, and making his legendary temper bristle. He'd sworn to keep it on a shorter leash to prevent another Nibelheim, but this woman was proving to be a much harder test of his willpower, much sooner in the race than he had anticipated.

He only took a fraction of a moment, and that only because he absolutely **needed** it to get his feet in gear, and then he moved again. It was strange; when he stopped, everyone stopped, and when he went, everyone went. It was much like being The General had always been like, only worse. He couldn't afford to let it affect him, though, not now. It was too important that he at least make a good enough impression that his suspicious allies would give him enough room to work.

They went up some stairs and wound through a maze of corridors, SOLDIERs breaking off every now and then the whole way to stand watch. Finally, they halted at a pair of large doors, flung open to reveal some sort of meeting room. A small child stood by the doors, long dark hair in a neat tail, and dark eyes focused sharply upon them. He pushed right through the bemused SOLDIERs and stopped in front of Reno.

The TURK scooped him up with a wide grin, settling the solemn boy on his hip with an ease that bespoke years of practice. "Taka! What are you doing here? You should be at home, or with one of your uncles."

The boy rested his head on one of Reno's bony shoulders and wrapped a hand around the TURK's wet ponytail. "I was with Mr. Rude and Miss Elena. Then someone came and said they had to come and escort Mr. Reeve to meet someone important. I knew you were coming home, so I just waited. Should I not have?"

Reno patted the boy's back. "No, it's fine. You probably don't want to hang around here now, though. We're going to be doing a lot of boring talking, and maybe some silly arguing."

The boy lifted his head and pointed at Sephiroth. "But I want to know why it's so quiet over there," he stated rationally. Really, the kid's levelheadedness was strange enough for his age, especially if he spent much time with the fiery Reno. But the things he said were just disturbing. It was as if he was older and wiser than all of them.

Reno just nodded, though. "It is quiet, isn't it?" The TURK looked at Reeve. "Would it be okay if he stayed? I'll make sure he goes if things get too sensitive."

Reeve frowned. "Are you sure you want your son here with…" The man's eyes cut sideways at Sephiroth. Sephiroth was almost too shocked to be offended. Reno having a kid wasn't all **that** shocking, but that said kid could be so solemn—not to mention, the only physical resemblance they shared was the vaguely Wutaian shape of their facial features.

Reno shrugged. "He's not a threat. Even if you really piss—uh, anger him…" And Holy, wasn't it funny to hear Reno censoring his language for a child. "Probably the worst he'd do is glare. Maybe deliver a few cutting remarks."

Reeve still looked skeptical, but ushered them inside. The last SOLDIERs stopped at the doorway, closing it behind the group to stand guard in the hall. Everyone took chairs, except Taka, who seemed content to remain on Reno's lap, despite his dampness. Of course, except for the child himself, everyone was varying degrees of wet.

Once settled, Reeve fixed his gaze on Sephiroth, but addressed Cloud. "Cloud, how big a threat do you think he is." This time, with no distracting kid, Sephiroth felt his temper flare at being treated like an inanimate object, to be discussed, but not addressed. He carefully tamped down that response, forcing himself to think of Nibelheim and what his anger could do when unchecked.

Cloud snorted. "Absolutely none," he replied surely.

Another surge of temper took Sephiroth by surprise, but he understood that he simply hated being discounted; especially, something in the back of his mind whispered, by Cloud. He checked that voice with a thoroughness probably born of paranoia to be sure it came from him, not something…outside.

"With respect," he found himself saying, the words coming before he had time to think. "I don't think you can really say that. At the moment, I am not a threat, and I intend never to be a threat to you people again. But the problem with insanity is that it makes you unpredictable."

Cloud frowned at him. "Oh, come on. That was Jenova's influence. You're sane."

Sephiroth shook his head. "I'm sane **now**." He sighed. "Cloud, you know too well what Hojo can do. I never spent five consecutive years in his…care, as you did, but I saw him often, and Hojo assigned those who looked after me as a child. Growing up a lab specimen doesn't make for the most stable psyche." He stared Cloud in the eyes. "It's possible I could go insane again. I hope it doesn't happen, but you can't just ignore the possibility and hope it never comes up."

Cloud shook his head stubbornly. "No, you're **fine** now. You can't let her get to you, you can't be all defeatist, or she'll win!"

Sephiroth sighed again. "Cloud, I'm simply being realistic. I won't let her have me, but you have to be prepared that she might get me anyway. You have to have contingency plans, and you have to watch to make sure I'm not slipping down that path again. If I go bad again, you **have** to kill me. For real, this time, like last time was meant to be. We can't risk the Planet on your faith that I won't go mad again."

"Once is chance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action," Andrews murmured, softly. Everyone looked at him. "Well, he's already gone bad twice—Nibelheim and Meteor. And that's an awful large escalation. I think he's right; we have to be prepared to kill him. We can't risk anything right now, especially not if he scales up again."

Sephiroth shook his head slightly. "Technically, Colonel, I have only gone bad once, at Nibelheim. I spent the past five years and change in stasis at the bottom of the Mt. Nibel reactor's main Mako reservoir. Meteor was due entirely to Jenova and one of the Clones of me Hojo made."

The blond female TURK—possibly the 'Miss Elena' Taka had referred to—sat forward. "Sephiroth, could you explain a bit further about this 'stasis?'"

Sephiroth frowned and glanced over at Cloud, but the blond seemed happy to let him fend for himself. "Mako isn't really my specialty," he qualified, but continued at her semi-encouraging gesture. "Well, from what I understand, if you get enough Mako fast enough, your body gets shocked into a state of suspended animation. It doesn't absorb the Mako in this state, and all life processes stop. If you had been able to get down there while I was in that state, you would have been unable to detect any heartbeat, respiration, brainwaves…even metabolism stops.

"But Mako is life energy, super condensed Lifestream. My…spirit, I suppose, was not fully tethered to my body there. I was partially at one with the Lifestream. I could watch the people in it—that is, the dead, before their souls disperse into new life. However, I could not myself dissipate. I spent most of the past years semi-conscious of the Lifestream. I could sometimes manage to reach out to the living in the form of dreams, but it took me a long time to learn how to do it regularly, consciously."

Ms. Lockheart scowled at him. "Is that how you cheered on your Clone? Told it what to do in its dreams?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "Ms. Lockheart. The only people I ever reached out to in dreams were Zack and Cloud, and even that was accidental, at first. Occasionally, Jenova would come to gloat. But until he touched the Lifestream to gather enough of its power to call down Meteor, I had no idea I even had a Clone. In fact, it took me quite a while to figure out that that was what he was… a Clone of me. And the only time I interacted with him was when he was in the Lifestream; first as he held Holy back, then when he died. I did no 'cheering.'"

Cloud suddenly exploded out of his chair, whipping Ultima Weapon from its place at his side. Reflexively, Sephiroth's hand went to his own side, where he'd have rested Masamune against the wall if he'd had it with him. As he did so, however, a hard fist caught him in the jaw, launching him out of the chair and to the ground. Before he could even register the pain, Tifa Lockheart was standing over him, raining blows down on his aching body. He felt a fist jostle his cracked ribs and tender lungs—still burnt from inhaling Mako fumes on the way down in the reservoir. A kick to his belly produced the screaming pain of his gash reopening, tender new flesh and scar tissue parting under the strain.

The room was suddenly full of shouting, though he could barely hear it over the pounding in his ears. Past the spots and dazzling flashes in his eyes, he saw Reno take Tifa down with a truly spectacular flying tackle—no mean feat, given Reno was still drained, and Tifa was a hand-to-hand combatant, and extremely strong despite her deceptively small bones. Vincent crouched over Sephiroth, running his flesh fingers over him to check his injuries. His mouth was moving, but Sephiroth was hearing Cid's voice bellowing steadily more inventive curses. Funnily enough, it seemed for several moments that Vincent's lips moved in sync with Cid's vocalizations. Sephiroth wished he could hear properly—it might have been interesting to hear the seldom-ruffled man swearing so sulfurously.

Finally, with Vincent's help, Sephiroth managed to heave himself painfully back into his chair. A little way away, Reno turned from Tifa where he'd pinned her to the wall, leaving Cid waving his spear over her. The TURK moved to crouch in front of him, plucking at his cloak.

"This has got to come off," the redhead said tersely. Sephiroth did his best to help, listening distractedly to the yelling still going on.

"Tifa!" Cloud's voice, angry. "What in Holy's name did you think you were doing?"

Tifa, yelling right back. "Well, what was I supposed to think? We have this…this monster, sitting here, openly telling us not to trust him, and you jump up like Jenova herself had teleported into the room! I thought he'd done something, said something, and now we were going to take him out."

"She might as well have! I sensed her; she's got one of her puppets watching us **right now**, and she knows now that, not only do you not trust Sephiroth, you're willing to kill him for any reason and no reason! Do you think she won't take advantage of that? And now she knows that right now he couldn't even stop you."

"What?"

"Take a good look, Tifa. All of you! Look at him!"

Sephiroth felt eyes on him and wished he could cover up, but Reno had finally gotten the cloak off and peeled his shredded coat from his body—he had refused to part with his clothing, since he had little else in the world, so it was still sliced up, ash flecked, and blood stained from events five years ago. Reno had also managed to get the bandages so carefully applied in the morning halfway unwrapped, so much of the terrible gash was visible to anyone looking in his direction. There were gasps all around, but Reno's head stayed bent to his task, pouring burning potions on the wound and making noises about needing a doctor.

For some reason, Sephiroth found his eyes drawn to one of the partially opened windows. He caught sight of a very ordinary looking sparrow, perhaps a little bigger than most, but oddest in that it was staring directly in through the window at them. He lifted a hand to it. "Might as well come in, now you're discovered," he said. The bird cocked its head at him, then hopped down from its perch and pushed through the window. Then it fluttered across the room to land in Sephiroth's outstretched palm.

Cloud audibly growled, and Sephiroth shot him an amused glance before turning back to the bird. Now he had it so close, he could see that its eyes were wrong for a bird's, and it had tiny claws hidden in its wings. He could hear the Jenova-warped babble of the Lifestream around it, though it was only a tiny pocket of distortion.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured softly. "So you are Jenova's puppet… Does she see what you see, hear what you hear, feel what you feel?" The tiny creature cocked its head again as if considering the question, then bobbed it in an awfully cute gesture for a poor little animal twisted by Jenova's evil. Sephiroth smiled slightly in return. "I remember what that was like; the world was so far away, and my hands moved on their own. There was a little voice telling me to relax and give in and everything would be okay. Is it like that for you?" The bird twittered, and Sephiroth smiled ironically.

"Ah, but you are just a bird, after all. The one I speak to here is Jenova, controlling your tiny little form. Poor thing." He stroked one fingertip softly over its downy head. "Can you guarantee that if I give you a message, she will receive it?" Another little head bob. Sephiroth closed his fingers around the tiny body in his hand, crushing the life from it and staring into its dimming eyes. "I hope you felt that, because that's the message," he said levelly, just before he felt a tiny eruption of Lifestream, telling him it had died.

When he looked up again, most of the room was staring at him in horror. Reno had turned his face away, and Taka looked on the brink of tears. Andrews and Reeve were studying him as if reevaluating his stability. Rude's face was blank, unreadable behind his sunglasses, but Elena's chocolate eyes stared hard at him, visibly calculating.

But the only one who mattered was Cloud, and Cloud was nodding in grim satisfaction. "I hope she **did** feel that," the blond muttered. Eyes around the room swung to refocus on the lieutenant. Cloud's blue-violet eyes widened. "What? Didn't you hear? That was a puppet of Jenova, and Jenova was close enough to it to feel it die. He's killed two birds with one stone—pardon the horrible pun. He got rid of the thing spying on us—I no longer sense Jenova's presence—and he declared his intentions." Cloud looked at the tiny body in Sephiroth's grip and sighed. "Poor creature."

Sephiroth looked down at it too, finding himself incapable of releasing the mangled corpse. Instead, he stroked its head again, hoping death gave it some measure of peace, since it obviously hadn't had it in life.

"It isn't as quiet anymore," Taka said into the stillness. Sephiroth lifted his gaze to the child, who met it without fear. "I think they're trying to figure out what to make of you."

"Who is?"

"The people in the Lifestream. I think they were waiting for a sign from you." The boy's eyes drifted slightly out of focus. "The flower lady says—"

"Taka!" Reno exclaimed, cutting the child off. "We do not talk about that in public, remember?"

Taka frowned. "But she says he's okay now. And he can hear them, too." He looked at Sephiroth for support. "Can't you?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "If you refer to the voices of the Cetra, no, I can't. I hear the Lifestream, sometimes—all the time, really. And the Cetra are part of that. But I can't make anything out, most of the time. Just murmurs." He looked at the child closely. "But how do you know that?"

Taka looked like he wanted to speak, but glanced uncertainly at Reno. The redhead sighed and looked at Cloud. "No more of Jenova's creatures around?" Cloud paused, eyes falling half shut, then shook his head. The TURK sighed again. "Okay. For those of you who missed it—that would be everyone but those of us who went to get Sephiroth—I…" He swallowed, then tilted his chin up proudly. "I am a Cetra. As are my brothers, of course. Taka here is Tseng's son by blood, and mine in his absence. Taka is also a Cetra through his father."

Elena jerked to her feet, making Cid tense in worry Tifa would go nuts again, but the brunette just scowled at him and leaned against the wall. Meanwhile, Elena was leaning on the edge of the table and staring narrowly at Reno. "Why didn't you say something? Reno, you know the TURKs were looking for Aeris because she was an Ancient. Planet, you and Tseng were always the ones sent after her—never Rude, never me."

Reno smiled humorlessly. "I wonder why she kept **just** getting away from us, then? Come on, Elena! Remember what happened to her when we finally caught her. Hojo had her in a tiny cell, running tests on her before you could even blink. You think I was stupid enough to want that for myself? You think Tseng was? You know what that monster would have done to Taka if he'd found out about Tseng? Of course I didn't say anything. I did my job and gave the Shinra no reason to look any more closely at me than they had to, to keep my family safe."

"But we're safe now, right?" Taka asked quietly. "No more Hojo." Reno looked stricken, then heartbroken.

Sephiroth sighed quietly and leaned forward to pat the child's head with his free hand. "If only that were true," he murmured. "You're right—Hojo is gone. But you're special. As long as you can do things no one else can, there will always be someone who wants to use you. That's just the way of things."

Taka's face twisted in distress and confusion. "You mean people are always bad?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "No, of course not. There are many good people around you right now. But anything with free will can be good or evil at any moment, and can change as unexpectedly as the wind. Every time you trust someone, you take a terrible risk that they'll betray you, or you'll betray them. But in the end, all we can do is choose carefully those we trust, and hope things come out right in the end."

Taka's face smoothed into that disconcertingly wise expression he seemed always to wear. "That's what you're doing, isn't it? Trying to make things right."

Sephiroth looked at his hands. Gloved, as always, one bloodied and covered with feathers, clutching the sorry corpse of the bird puppet. But neither hand was clean—he could see the stains of past wrongs on them as clearly as he could see the leather. Even though it was mostly in his head, he still felt Masamune sliding through yielding flesh, could smell ashes and blood as clearly as if he were standing in the Nibelheim of five years ago. It was probably selfish, but he had to find some way to erase that day from his senses. He could feel its effects in his very soul—just the knowledge that Cloud had not yet completely forgiven him ached with dull insistence. Somehow, he had to make that right, too.

"It is hard for anyone to know another's soul, so the only way we can be judged by our fellow man is by our actions. By mine…I am evil, and I don't want to be. I have to do something to fix it. By my own actions, I lost everything that mattered to me: myself, my friend, and my lover. Maybe it can't be fixed. But I've never been the type to just give up."

He heard murmuring just outside his ability to hear and saw Taka cock his head. Just behind the child, Reno also tilted his head, as if he could hear the voices clearly—and he probably could, if he really was an Ancient. Taka looked back at his 'Daddy,' who smiled at him, resting a hand on top of his head.

"Now they're satisfied," Reno said, then drew himself up to his full height. It wasn't much, but he seemed illuminated from within by some great power, so the short, skinny redhead in his damp, rumpled clothes was suddenly an imposing figure.

"Congratulations, Sephiroth. The Cetra have decided they will not impede you in your attempts at redemption. Use your freedom well." The TURK flicked his dripping ponytail over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. "Not that our resistance would have hurt you much, would it?"

Sephiroth frowned. "You were judging me, too? Fantastic. The only one who doesn't ask questions and is willing to try and heal me, and you're holding court, too."

Reno shrugged. "For myself, I never would have. I figure everyone deserves another chance—well, maybe not Hojo—but people have been pardoned for worse than burning a tiny mountain town to the ground. No reason you shouldn't be.

"Still, as a Cetra, I had to watch. For the Planet. And I passed no judgment. I merely passed on the message."

Sephiroth sighed, feeling drained. "Right. Whatever." He looked around at the room's other occupants, most of whom had been silent the whole time. "Listen, can we just hurry up with this? Assign whatever guards you want, give me my spot on the chain gang, or whatever, and let me sleep."

"Nope!" Reno said cheerfully, turning to Reeve. "I don't care what you've got planned for him, but he spends tonight here in the hospital. I already called a doctor and everything. Besides, half-gutted and all, he's hardly a threat to you, and he's certainly no help."

Reeve looked him over quietly. "Fine. If the Planet is willing to give you a chance, and Cloud—whom you hurt so badly—is also willing, then I can see no reason to stand in the way. However, I am currently in charge of an awful lot of people in a city that could crash down around our ears at any moment. Just to be sure, I'm going to have to insist you have guards." He looked at Andrews. "Colonel, I'll leave selection of those guards up to you. Just make sure they're up for the task, just in case."

Andrews nodded. "I'll station a few for tonight in the hospital. After that…" He looked over at Cloud. "Lieutenant. You're currently living in his old quarters. If you don't mind, I'll put him back there so you can keep an eye on him part of the day. I certainly won't make him your responsibility all the time though. Once we figure out what we're telling the populace, I'll decide what to do with him, and that will dictate who watches him."

Cloud saluted. "Yes, Sir."

Reeve looked around. "That's about it for the night, I think. Colonel, Elena, I'd like to see you two first thing tomorrow so we can figure out what we tell people. Good night, all." With that, the acting President swept from the room, Rude and Elena in their places beside him. Andrews nodded a good night to Cloud and offered Sephiroth a much stiffer salutation, before he, too, left.

Cid, Vincent, and Red moved to join up with the civilians, and Sephiroth realized that they must be the rest of the force that had taken out his Clone. No wonder they had been present—they'd defeated 'him' once already. They had to be a lot tougher than they looked. But as their loose gaggle headed for the door, Cloud spoke up.

"Not you, Tifa," the blond said in a voice that could have made Shiva shiver. Then Cloud glanced at him and back at the woman. "Let's take this next door."

When the doors bumped shut behind them, Sephiroth found himself sitting in a large conference room with only Reno and Taka for company. He had never precisely been a people person, but the sudden emptiness of the room left him feeling a little cold. It was as though his environment had suddenly come to mimic the echoing void inside him.

"You okay?" Reno asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sephiroth quirked a weak smile at the redhead, ignoring the feel of the warm, callused hand on his bare skin. "Better than I expected to be. They would have been well within their rights to set me before a firing squad. I more than half expected it."

Reno laughed. "You think that'd kill you? No way. You're pretty banged up right now, but no one could even tell until I halfway stripped you down. I mean, even Cloud is limping still. I think you're too stubborn to die just yet." He tilted his head suddenly in that gesture Sephiroth was quickly growing to recognize as 'I'm listening to something in the Lifestream.' "Hold on. I have to go grab that doctor. The guards won't let him through." Then Reno was gone before Sephiroth could even ask what that was supposed to mean.

"It's his brother," Taka said. Sephiroth glanced at him, and was nearly startled out of his skin when the boy crawled into his lap just as if he wasn't half-naked, bleeding, and clutching a dead bird. "The doctor is one of Daddy's brothers. They're talking. I can't hear what they say—I'm too weak, and I don't share blood with them. But he's nice. He let me visit Daddy when he was sleeping even when the hospital wouldn't let me."

Sephiroth remembered all that time that Reno had been in the Lifestream. It had never occurred to him to wonder what was happening to the man's body, at the time. He'd just sat back and watched his activities, and Aeris's, too, careful to never reveal himself or get caught snooping. He'd watched much of the Lifestream in that manner, which was how he found Hojo, and how he'd helped the Lifestream itself dissipate his Clone's twisted energies when he died.

Reno burst in again, visibly fuming, and leading a slightly taller redhead who bore a remarkable resemblance to him, only without the scars and on a better diet.

"Geeze, those SOLDIERs need to get smacked. Can you believe they wanted to call Colonel Andrews and **ask** if they should let him in? Idiots!"

The other redhead smiled weakly. "They're just doing their jobs, Jamie." He turned to Sephiroth with a smile. "Hello. I'm Galen. Cloud told me a lot about you."

Sephiroth wracked his brains for some reference to 'Galen.' "Cloud's…lab partner, wasn't it? You gave him his earrings…" Earrings Sephiroth hadn't seen the whole time he'd been awake and out of the reactor. In fact, Cloud had worn no earrings, just his motion-sickness Materia on the Mythril chain Zack had gotten him, and an Adamant chain Sephiroth vaguely recalled from Nibelheim.

Galen nodded in response to his statements. "Yeah, that's me. I work as a doctor here, and Jamie," he indicated Reno, "has asked me to take a look at you. There was something in there about Mako sickness? And hey, do you have Green Syndrome? Your eyes…"

Sephiroth nodded, a bit bemused. He recalled his jealousy of this stranger back before he'd gotten involved with Cloud. Now he realized they had been a lot alike—no wonder they'd become friends. "Yes, I am Mako sick, and I've had Green Syndrome since I was a child."

Galen nodded. "Hmm, well, let me take a look." He walked around to Sephiroth's front, producing all kinds of instruments that made Sephiroth recall too vividly Hojo's lab. Taka slithered from his lap—a shame, really, as his warm weight was surprisingly soothing—and Galen gasped.

"Holy Planet!" He spun to glare at Reno. "Jamie, what do you think you're doing? He doesn't need a Mako doctor like me, he need a trauma specialist!"

Reno shook his head. "He heals really quickly and well on his own, and I know you know how to put in a few stitches. Further, he **is** Mako sick, and I know you can help with that. Besides, we don't want anyone to know he's here, yet, and I know you can keep this quiet."

Galen sniffed. "If you wanted to keep this quiet, you should have left off all the guards." He glanced at Sephiroth and his face softened. "Well, I'll see what I can do," he murmured, digging through his kit for a moment before producing some non-Mako painkillers and sterile suture supplies. "Here, take these," he said, handing Sephiroth the packet of painkillers.

Sephiroth shook his head. "That's okay. I'll be fine."

Galen rolled his eyes. "Listen, I have had it up to here with SOLDIERs and their compulsive tough guy attitudes. Just take the damn pills!"

Sephiroth shook his head again. "Sorry. They don't work for me, at least, not in such a low dosage. Might as well save them for when they'll be useful."

Galen frowned, but tore open an alcohol wipe. "Suit yourself," the doctor muttered.

In an attempt to wall out the really quite exquisite pain as Galen cleaned his open gash, Sephiroth cast about for something else to occupy his attention. Angry voices raised at just that moment from next door did the trick quite well. Turning his head, he focused on them, trying to make out what was being said, and giving grudging admiration for the beat up old building's soundproofing.

By the time Galen had finished with him, he had heard more than he wanted to. Distinct among the things he'd managed to hear, the thing that burned most vividly in his memory was Tifa's upraised voice screaming, "I love you!" Worse than that, was the silence that followed. No refutation, no declarations that he loved another, just…nothing. Cloud had either remained silent, or hadn't needed to speak loudly enough for even the rumble of his voice to be discerned through the wall.

It hadn't even occurred to him that Cloud might have moved on. Oh, surely he couldn't have found someone new during those five years of unpleasantness with Hojo, but it had somehow escaped Sephiroth's immediate notice that Cloud had still had over six months of freedom in which to do so. And Cloud was beautiful, strong, intelligent, and caring—not to mention inventive and just plain **good** in bed. He wouldn't have had to wait five minutes for an offer if he'd made the slightest indication he was interested.

Further, Cloud shared things with the Lockheart girl—a hometown, terrible loss at Sephiroth's hands, a journey to destroy Sephiroth's shadow. And she was pretty, and strong, hot-tempered, but so was Cloud—and most importantly, she'd been there for him. How could he compete with that?

Ruthlessly, Sephiroth stepped on the anger and resentment that boiled in him at the thought. He had no right to be jealous or possessive—he'd lost it long ago. And while Cloud had been giving some indications that he wanted to try and make things right between them again, it was entirely possible that his version of right and Sephiroth's differed. And now that he thought of it, they had been rather mixed signals, hadn't they? Cloud bounced back and forth between wanting to be close to him and actively pushing him away more rapidly and unpredictably than if he were high on Battery Caps.

Well, he'd just have to make it up to him. No way was Sephiroth going to just sit back and watch passively as some top-heavy, whiny, irrational girl stole his lover! Cloud didn't show any of the happiness or determination Zack had when he left for Aeris, so Sephiroth couldn't just wish him well and send him on his way. Hell, even though Zack had clearly loved Aeris, he **still** hadn't managed that degree of acceptance and encouragement. And as much as he'd loved Zack, Cloud was the light of his life.

That little girl would have him over his dead body.

* * *

And there it is! The end of the eleventh part! 

This part and the next gave me some real issues with the characterization, Sephiroth's in particular. I'm relieved to have it posted. Tifa fans—or even Tifa non-haters—please be patient. The next chapter will explain a little about her reactions. Of late, it seems jealousy has become a semi-major theme in this story. Hmmm. Anyway, we'll jump back to Cloud for a little while, and back to Sephiroth for…well, a chunk of the foreseeable future. I have the whole fic laid out in my head, but I seldom know the POV from which I'll tell any given scene until I've started writing. In that respect, I sometimes think it would be easier to restrict my POV to one character, but I really like the flexibility of my current system.

And that was a little more on the dynamics of writing Akuma's style than was probably necessary. Sorry.

Again, check out Quela's art! I understand some people are having trouble seeing it. Try going to Quela's profile here on then follow the link to DeviantArt, and you should find it there. If you still can't see it, it may be a software issue—try checking DeviantArt proper for recommendations.

Finally, please review! I'm interested to hear any comments, questions, or suggestions. You can click the review button, or email me. I'm also still looking for a place to post an NC-17 Castlevania fic, if anyone knows a place. And who else is bummed we have to wait for Advent Children?


	12. Confrontation and Duty

Hello, gentle readers! (snicker)

Sorry for the wait! Here's another chapter! Thanks to Allanon who beta-read this a loooong time ago, but I've been unable to motivate myself to post it. I told myself I would post it by my birthday no matter what, so here it is. On my birthday. Talk about lack of motivation.

This time, Tifa and Cloud discuss her poor behavior, Cloud comes to the conclusion that they're all crazy, and Sephiroth gets assigned duties! Hope you enjoy! More notes below.

* * *

Cloud closed the door to the small office with all the rigid control at his disposal. He was seething, at the moment, but trying to keep a lid on it. Tifa had been with him through a lot—they'd known each other when they were small, though she'd been cold to him then. They'd survived Nibelheim. Then she'd been there through the first horrible days in Midgar, when he'd been starving, ill, confused, and Mako poisoned. Not to mention all the time they'd spent searching for Sephiroth, trying to save the Planet, and struggling with Cloud's faulty identity. 

He **owed** it to her to listen. He owed her his attentiveness and the restraint of his temper.

Still, he was furious. Just up and beating a man—even one she hated—just because she was startled was hardly appropriate behavior, no matter what that man had done in the past.

And this was hardly the first time. Tifa had been acting strangely for a while now. The Tifa he remembered from childhood had been self-centered and often unintentionally mean, only purposely being cruel in imitation of the other townsfolk—who had never liked him much. But she'd also been self-sufficient, and occasionally capable of great kindness. And while all his memories had to be suspect, he rather believed them—there was no reason for Hojo or Jenova to alter them, after all.

But recently, she seemed to have lost that empathetic warmth. All her responses were overdone, blown way out of proportion with respect to the situations that caused them, and usually angry.

He knew well enough that she hated Sephiroth. He even understood it, even if he couldn't feel quite the same way. And if she'd been acting this way just in response to Sephiroth, he would have let it slide. But he couldn't overlook her reactions to Reno—again, understandable, given that he'd crushed Sector Seven—nor some of the things she had said and done during the Meteor crisis. She'd withheld important information, not just from him, but from everyone. She'd clung so tightly to her image of him, she'd been unwilling to let him find out the truth. She'd never mentioned Zack. Once he'd regained his memory—well, some of it, anyway—she'd gone right back to seeing what she wanted. Then, when Sephiroth and Reno came into the picture, she began lashing out at him, their teammates, and their friends.

It had to stop. As things were, she was going to get someone hurt or killed, or hurt or kill them herself. And Holy knew she didn't need to be provoking Sephiroth. He'd noticed the silver-haired general pulling out all the stops to control his temper, especially with Tifa. Cloud could only assume that the older man thought he could prevent another incident like Nibelheim if he controlled himself well enough, and maybe he was right. Cloud couldn't let Tifa jeopardize that with her sniping.

Turning to face her, Cloud deliberately crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her with his bright Mako eyes. She glared back, red-brown eyes boring into him, and dangerous fists clenching at her sides. He knew she wouldn't hit him, and if she did, he could take it. And the rest was a simple test of patience. Whatever else Cloud was, he was certainly patient when he needed to be—he'd survived five years of alternating torture and boredom well enough, he could make it through a staring match with Tifa.

Of course, a staring match wasn't exactly what he had in mind, so once her gaze finally faltered, he sighed and spoke.

"You want to tell me what that was about back there?"

Tifa snorted inelegantly, flipping her ponytail with a shake of her head. "What what was back there?"

Cloud pressed his temper back into a far corner of his mind, drawing on all his patience. "Well, several things. But let's start with your attack on Sephiroth."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come **on**, Cloud! I told you back there: I thought he'd done something to set you off, and I wasn't about to let him try and destroy the world again."

"At the risk of sounding like an echo, let me point out that he's never tried to destroy the world. He burned Nibelheim, killed our parents, tried to kill you, Zack, and me, but he never tried to destroy the world."

"He was going for a weapon! I saw it!"

Cloud nodded. "Yes, a weapon I have right here." He indicated Masamune strapped to his back parallel to Ultima Weapon. Tifa flinched as if just noticing the great sword. Cloud abruptly decided to try a different tack. "Look, I know you hate him. I know you don't trust him. Believe me, I totally don't blame you. But why don't you trust me?"

Tifa looked horrified. "What are you talking about? Of course I trust you!"

"Then why, when I said he was no threat, did you still automatically assume that the only possible reason for me to jump up like that was to attack him?"

Tifa looked down at her feet as if they were suddenly very interesting. She scuffed a toe on the cheap hospital linoleum and would not meet his eyes. "It's just…well, you've been tricked by him before. You've been…enthralled by him before. I just… I worry it'll happen again, and you won't see him for what he is."

"And what is he?"

Now Tifa's head came up, her eyes snapping with shock and anger. "How can you even need to ask? He's an insane, murderous monster with no regard for human life! He murdered my dad, Cloud, in cold blood! He killed your mom, too, then burned the whole town! He doesn't deserve forgiveness, or a second chance, or anything of the sort. He deserves to be crucified and buried headless with a stake through the heart like the demon he is!"

Cloud shook his head. "Tifa, he killed my mom right in front of me and told me—**told me!**—it was because of me. Do you think I don't worry how many other deaths that day were because of me? Do you think I don't lie awake at night sometimes, unable to sleep because I know if I do, I'll hear the screams, feel the heat, see my mother die?"

Shivering, he scraped his fractured composure back together. "Still, that night I got a close look into his eyes, and… Tifa, that wasn't Sephiroth. That was his body, and he was there, but the monster swinging that sword was no more Sephiroth than I am." He frowned, touching the long hair he had yet to chop off. "Okay, bad example. He was no more Sephiroth than **you** are."

Tifa frowned at him. "What is up with your hair, anyway? And your voice. Are you sick?"

Cloud laughed. "No, not sick." He grabbed Tifa's gloved hands and stared into her face, trying to impress upon her a sense of the importance of what he was about to say with will power alone. "Tifa, Jenova was down there with him. Remember the Jenova in the Shinra Tower had no head? I told you guys later that Sephiroth tried to take it with him five years ago in Nibelheim. Well, it was still there, and now it's loose. It said it was going to make Jenova harder to beat.

"While we were there, Jenova attacked me. She couldn't get at Sephiroth to possess him again, and he was too weak to be of any use to her, anyway. So…she tried to make me into Sephiroth, like the Clone."

Tifa flinched and stared at him. "Oh, Planet, are you okay?"

Cloud nodded, smiling for her. "Yeah, I'm fine. All I have to show for it is long hair—which I plan to cut—a scratchy voice, and a belly wound that's already mostly healed."

"That's why you're limping?"

He decided to embellish the truth a little—no need to work her up over Sephiroth again just yet. "Yeah, pretty much. She nicked my spine with a tentacle—I was paralyzed for a little while—but I'm okay now." Strictly true—she **had** nicked his spine, but it was the Mako she'd pumped into him that had shorted out the Jenova cells used to repair his back five years before, and their loss had been what caused his temporary paralysis.

"Oh, Cloud!" she exclaimed, and for a moment it seemed she was back to normal. "Don't you see? Now you've come so close to being like the other Clones were before, you're even more under his thrall than you were back then! Oh, it's terrible. But don't worry, we'll find some way to fix it."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Tifa, I am the same now as I was before. Or perhaps not quite, because I've been remembering things I'd lost to Hojo. I remember Zack a lot better now; I remember Galen and the first time I met Reno; I remember what Sephiroth was like before he went mad."

Tifa shook her head. "No! See, right there! That's what's wrong with you. You didn't **know** Sephiroth before—that was Zack. You weren't in SOLDIER, you were just a Regular."

Cloud shook his head. "Look, maybe you should talk to Colonel Andrews. He can tell you some more about my military career with the Regulars and with SOLDIER, and he's no Clone, failed or otherwise. But I'll tell you this much. I **was** a Regular with the 397th. For much of my Regular career, short as it was, I was rubbing shoulders with SOLDIERs because I managed to catch Colonel Zack's eye. By the time I'd been in Midgar four months, I had a pass into the SOLDIER sector and onto SOLDIER bases to work out—or just hang out whenever I wanted.

"A month or so later, the 397th got set to the garrison at Xi-Fe-Xiu in Wutai and were still there when the Wutai Uprising occurred. We fought right from the start—the Materia bomb that went off and started the conflict went off at **our** base, though not in our barracks, fortunately. I was there for the battle that wiped out the last resistance—Meteor Rain, the natives called it, and gee, where have I heard that before? Why, it's one of my level 3 Limits! The 'Meteor Rain' that battle is named for was the consequence of me purposely overdrawing a Comet Materia, the energy of which was subsequently absorbed into my body, which is how I initially got Mako eyes.

"Do you know how many people died in that battle? Thousands. Tens of thousands. I don't know exactly how many I killed with that one attack, but it was easily hundreds. Many hundreds. That's more than Sephiroth killed in Nibelheim—it may have been capital of the Nibel Region, but it was still just a small mountain town. And after I called down all those comets to kill those troops, I went on a homicidal rampage and chased after our broken and defeated enemy. Those I caught…never went home again."

Tifa gripped his hands, shaking her head in desperate negation. "No, that can't be. You're not like that! Everyone knows overdrawing a Materia makes you crazy."

Cloud shook his head gently. "It can't make you anything you don't have the potential to be anyway. I know—I have a degree in Mako science from Midgar U. Do you see now? We're alike, Sephiroth and I."

"No! You're different!"

"How so?"

"I… Because **I love you**!" she exclaimed. "You **have** to be different from that monster!"

Cloud froze, unable to believe her sudden proclamation. Then he rubbed a gloved hand over his face, scratching at his stubbled jaw. "Jeez, Tifa." He muttered, shaking his head and feeling distinctly punch-drunk. "I—I don't know what to say. I mean, I knew you felt something, it's just… Look, I'm really no good for you. Man, there was a time I would have done anything to hear those words from you, do you know that?" Carefully, he gathered her into his arms, alarmed to feel her beginning to shake with sobs.

"Do you remember what you said at the well that night, what you called him? 'The Great Sephiroth.' At that time, I wanted to be like him because I thought, if I could be strong and famous like that, you and everyone else would have to notice me then. So I went away, determined to become like him. Through years of training, war, Nibelheim, and Hojo, I became so much like him, Hojo called me 'Clone.' Yet now I stand before you as you say you **hate** Sephiroth, who is so much what I've become, but you say you love me, even though it no longer matters."

He reached down and gently tilted her head up so he could meet her eyes. "Tifa. Do us all a favor and at least measure us by the same stick. There are things that…I don't know if even I can forgive him for, and things I can't forgive myself for. But we are alike, he and I, and maybe it **is** blinding me to some great danger, but I want so much to forgive him, because I hope one day to be forgiven." He swept a stray tear from her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Do you understand?"

Tifa trembled in his grasp, but the tears slowed. She swallowed. "I can't promise anything. Knowing you did some bad things is nothing compared to the memory of what Sephiroth did to me personally. But…I'll try, I guess. And with Reno, too. But you should know by now that I can hold a grudge a very long time."

Cloud nodded. "As I said, I don't expect you to forgive any of us. But at least try to give us some space. Besides, the less irritated Sephiroth is, the safer I think everyone will feel when they go to bed at night. He's dangerous—so am I and so are you—but right now, he's **ours**, and Jenova's the one who ought to be sitting up in bed tonight with the light on, worried he'll strike if she closes her eyes. You deserve to go home and sleep, secure in the knowledge that that particular loose cannon is pointed away from you."

Tifa nodded, and headed for the door. She hesitated at the threshold, though, and looked back at him. "You never did really respond, you know. I told you I love you, but…do you love me?"

Cloud nodded. "Yes. But not, I think, in the way you want me to. You should go out and find someone who deserves you—if such a being exists!—and who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Date, have fun. Don't worry about me; I'm more or less content with things as they are now."

Tifa's bottom lip quivered, but she collected herself before any tears could escape. "I'll…try. But where do I start? How?"

He shrugged and smirked. "I'm pretty sure you won't have to look too hard—you're waaay too pretty to have to work at it. They'll probably be lining up by the door once they hear you're on the lookout."

Tifa laughed and blushed, and excused herself in an almost adorable fluster. Cloud smiled to himself when she was gone. It felt good to make someone so happy. Not to mention he'd gotten that 'love' thing cleared up with gratifying speed. As flattered as he was, he'd been telling the complete truth when he told her that she just didn't matter that way, anymore. Now, when he thought of love, his mind slid inevitably off to either Aeris—whom he was still not over, and might never be completely (and damn Zack, anyway)—or to Sephiroth.

Better still, it seemed that Tifa's irrational behavior was explained. She was, understandably, still quite angry with Sephiroth—and Reno—for their various crimes. Coupled with stress and a big crush on **him**, of all people—voila! Instant recipe for erratic behavior. Hell, the crush part alone would have done it for most people. Or the stress. Or Sephiroth. All three together…**why**, exactly, weren't the lot of them in padded cells with long-sleeved coats?

Thinking about it, though…well, he was quite certifiable; Vincent was clearly depressive and obsessive; Cid was addicted to alcohol and nicotine—not to mention rather abusive; Tifa was emotionally frail; Reeve's creation of Cait Sith smacked of escapism; Yuffie was a compulsive kleptomaniac; Barret had **serious** anger issues… Holy, was Red the only sane one of the lot of them? No, wait—he had a father complex.

Wow, they were **all** crazy.

* * *

Feeling a lot better for the sleep, Sephiroth stepped out of the hospital room he'd been given for the night, scratching absently at his stitches. He was topless—his jacket had been taken for repairs, and no one had yet brought him anything in the way of alternatives except for a hospital gown with little pink flowers that he refused to wear in **private**, much less in public. He glared at the guards stationed on either side of the door, **daring** them to make one—just **one**—comment about his rather serious case of bed head. He'd done his best to fix it, but without a comb… 

The one on his right kept a perfectly straight face. The one on his left hastily swallowed his chuckle when the full weight of Sephiroth's glare settled on him.

With a prim sniff, Sephiroth headed down the hall toward the meeting room where, he'd been informed, they would once again meet to discuss various and sundry. Upon entering, his guards on his heels, all activity stopped, conversations halted, heads turned… It might have been an ego boost, if he had been completely sure they weren't just staring at his awful hair.

Lips twitching, Cloud stepped forward, carrying a large duffel bag. However, in his hand so he didn't even have to go digging for it, was a comb, and Sephiroth could have kissed him right there for his forethought. Of course, he could have kissed him right there for no reason at all, if he didn't think there'd be at least one…strenuous…objection. Strenuous involving torn stitches.

Cloud handed over the simple implement, and Sephiroth smiled—fairly broadly, for him—as he took it. "I love you forever, Cloud," he announced, not caring that the whole room could hear it. In fact, that was the point. Public declarations of love had never been his thing, but he was determined to make sure Cloud had no reason to doubt his feelings, and stake his claim—even if it was necessarily delivered under cover of a joke.

Cloud looked puzzled, but a faint flush touched just the very tops of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and Sephiroth knew at least one person—and the one who mattered most—had some idea what was **really** going on here.

With that settled, Sephiroth turned his attention to his hair, grabbing a handful of it in one fist and brandishing the comb threateningly in the other hand. He paused for a moment, steeling himself for battle, then attacked with a vengeance. Of course, it had gone untamed for five and a half years—not that it could possibly know that—so it was reluctant to submit to the discipline of a comb again after so much time. Still, though the battle was long and intense, Sephiroth, as always, won in the end.

Although, Cloud was looking at him in that way that said 'I know **exactly** what you're thinking, you overgrown child.' Funny, because Cloud had never really worn that expression before, only Zack, which was ludicrous, given some of his old friend's antics.

Zack.

Sephiroth had to look away from Cloud, busying himself with fastening a shirt retrieved from the bag, because seeing that fragment of his lost friend made him ache. He hadn't yet allowed himself to mourn for Zack. It seemed like he'd only just died because, while in the Lifestream, Zack had been there. First through the dreams—at that point, not really very controlled—then when he really died. Sephiroth had been able to watch over his friend once he died, so death had almost made him more real. The full staggering impact of his loss hadn't yet hit home, and Sephiroth hoped to put it off just a while longer. At least until he had a pattern established and knew when and where to give his guards the slip without causing undue alarm.

Having once again managed to dodge the load of grief Zack's death would one day soon drop on him, Sephiroth turned to spot Reeve standing across the room in quiet conversation with the TURKs—counting Reno—and Reno's brother, Galen. Sephiroth tuned into the conversation, though not with his hearing…he'd had more than enough nasty surprises recently from eavesdropping. Instead, he just watched, picking up everyone's general feelings. Galen seemed vaguely cross, and was speaking quickly in what seemed to be very clipped tones. Reno looked at his brother indulgently for several moments, then offered a short sentence of his own that somehow silenced the other redhead entirely.

Rude then spoke softly to the redheaded TURK, and either something he was saying or the mere fact he was saying it surprised the new President's eyebrows into jumping. Even Elena leaned in a little, obviously intent on what the powerfully built man was saying. A few moments later, she nodded and rattled something off in rapid-fire mode, staring at Reeve all the while. The hazel eyed man nodded once, then waved a hand at them to make room for Colonel Andrews, who'd just drifted over from where he was conversing with Sephiroth's night guards.

Andrews exchanged a few words with the TURKs, starting with Elena mostly, then shifting his attention to Reno as the blonde kept glancing at him for support. Then Andrews asked a short question of Galen, who looked unhappy, but nodded, and the Colonel turned to Reeve. Reeve seemed to ponder for a moment, then nodded with a few short words. The group then dispersed, but not before Reno caught Elena's arm and spoke to her quietly but intensely for a minute. The blonde blushed and seemed to find the toes of her simple heels deeply fascinating, but nodded at the end and carried her head high when she moved to stand to Reeve's right—the position of a senior TURK. Rude, to his left, seemed to find nothing strange with this, but Reeve himself blinked in surprise and looked questioningly at Reno. Reno flashed him a wide grin, then settled himself against the wall where his brother joined him.

And finally, Reeve was calling for everyone to come over and get settled so they could get started. Those who could do so grabbed chairs, but most of them wound up standing. Sephiroth himself leaned against a thin strip of wall between two windows, catching Cloud's eye as the blond moved to stand near Andrews on the side of the room opposite Reeve.

"Alright, everyone. Assignments. Since the rescue party was gone, the remaining members of AVALANCHE were incorporated more formally into the reconstruction efforts. Tifa is part of the Sector Seven reconstruction effort, which is going rather well since it just had the Plate fall on top of it, instead of being torn up and twisted by Meteor, and then having the equally warped Plate fall on it.

"Barret helps with that, but mostly is helping us explore new fuel sources—and reexamine old ones—to help us out. The electricity shortage is one of the main reasons clean up is taking so long, but shutting down the Mako reactors must take a top priority, even if they would be extremely useful, right now. We might as well get used to being without them now.

"Yuffie is helping smooth negotiations with Wutai. Lord Godo has been convinced that the remains of Shinra have no interest in dominating Wutai, and even if it did, it's too weak to think of it. He's agreed to send some able-bodied workers our way, along with humanitarian supplies in exchange for Shinra and SOLDIER pulling out of Xi-Fe-Xiu and Xiun-Weh. We've agreed, leaving Shinra's largest presence in Wutai at Kari-Sarhat. I anticipate Godo will want us out of there shortly, too, and, while I'm by Holy going to make it a tough trade, I'm also completely happy to turn all of Wutai over to him."

Yuffie laughed. "The old man won't know what to do with it, once he's got his land all together again."

Sephiroth twitched an eyebrow. "You are Godo Kisaragi's daughter, then?"

Yuffie looked at him. "Yeah, so?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "Nothing. Merely remembering. He was quite the warrior…Hades' Hells, nearly a decade ago."

Yuffie smirked. "Feeling old there, Your Evilness?"

From Tifa yesterday, the 'title' had sounded scathing, had gotten his back up and made him want to slice the woman to ribbons. From Yuffie this morning, grinning at him with impervious good cheer, Sephiroth felt like cracking a joke. So he did.

"Still young enough to kick your butt, you little whippersnapper! Just let me find my cane…"

To his surprise—he'd never really exercised his sense of humor much—a chuckle rippled around the table. He was quite shocked. Perhaps he was just channeling Zack today.

Cloud apparently decided to channel a bit, too, because he continued the joke. "If you mean this great, sharp, pokey thing, here—" He patted Masamune, resting beside Ultima Weapon as was becoming usual. "—I'm going to have to hold on to it. You might be too feeble and hurt yourself with it."

Outright laughter greeted that statement, and Sephiroth feigned a mildly hurt expression, secretly glad people could laugh at him after all that had happened.

Reeve gave everything a moment to calm down, then carried on with a small smile quirking the corners of his mouth—and really, he should smile more because it made him look less like an overworked executive and more like the not-so-old man he was.

"Ahem. Anyway, Cloud, as part of SOLDIER will be doing whatever his commanding officers tell him, which has so far been taking care of the Mako poisoned and rescuing," his lips quirked again, "His Evilness. I'd just like to ask Colonel Andrews to please consider having Cloud help out with the anti-Jenova taskforce we're now creating."

Andrews nodded. "Certainly. If he can help, I'll certainly let him. Since the rescue team went out, all but the worst of the poisoning cases have resolved, so we can certainly spare him."

"Good. Reno, of course, will be taking over as head of the TURKs—" the President continued, but Reno obviously had other ideas.

"Actually, I was hoping to take a little time to look for Tseng." At the blank looks around the table he shrugged and continued. "Taka is his kid, and we're **Cetra**, for crying out loud. Taka says he's alive, and I have to say, now that my senses are working again, I don't think he's dead. Extra manpower is always good, and Tseng is a born organizer—one with a temper, but a born organizer, anyway. And he's a Cetra. Nowhere near as strong as I am, but you've seen what Taka can do, and Tseng is more of the same."

Reeve frowned. "It seems like a long shot. But you're probably right. Last time Jenova was defeated for any period of time, it was the Cetra who sealed her away. We may need you to do that again this time. Very well. The TURKs may look into Tseng's disappearance, with aid from whoever has time at that moment."

"Cid, I'd like you to continue to make repairs to the _Highwind_ your top priority. If we need supplies, or if it comes to a confrontation with Jenova, we will **need** the mobility it affords us. Vincent may continue to tag along with you or he may help the Jenova team, as he likes.

"Red… I hate to do this to you, but if you could continue to help find the dead, it would be a big help. Some of the other officials are already entertaining notions of erecting some sort of monument to Meteor's dead, and it would be nice to know what names will be on it. And far more importantly, we need to get these families some closure."

Red nodded solemnly. "I understand. I will help as I can. I would also like to look in on Barret's research, if I might. The study of Planet Life may prove useful in avoiding potential energy sources that will only harm the Planet in some other way."

Reeve nodded. "That sounds reasonable enough. Finally, Sephiroth. Well, to begin with, we thought about giving you some reconstruction work—by which we mean heavy lifting—like so many of the other SOLDIERs are doing for us. Unfortunately, Galen has pointed out the severity of your injuries, and seeing all those stitches when you came in this morning more or less sealed it.

"Instead, we're going to put you on the Jenova project full-time until you heal up a bit more. It'll likely be rather boring—mostly research, reading books, lab notes, following obscure references… I can't help but feel it's probably a waste of your talents as a SOLDIER and a leader, but now that we have you, we'd better take care of you. Galen says you're healing well, compared to normal humans, but Cloud says you're healing rather slowly for you."

Sephiroth nodded slightly. "It is taking a bit longer to heal than usual. I believe the Mako poisoning has drained much of the strength I'd usually use to heal. I have no problem riding a desk for the next while—you think being a general wasn't just paperwork and more paperwork? I do have a request, though, if I may?" At Reeve's nod, he skewered the man with the full intensity of his eyes. "May we find something else to call this? This is not the Jenova Project, and there will never be another Jenova Project, if I can possibly stop it. I do not much care what we call it, but the less to do with Jenova, the better."

Reno crooked a brow. "But it **is** an attempt to do something about Jenova, so what else should we call it?"

Andrews spoke up. "It is common practice in the military—and you 'Administrative Research' people ought to be familiar with it—to assign misleading or innocuous names to sensitive projects. Perhaps something could be arranged?"

"Project Pink!" Yuffie exclaimed, then keeled over, laughing so hard she almost fell from the chair she'd stolen.

Most of the table stared at her in horrified disbelief. But Vincent seemed to consider it. "Well, Jenova **is** pink," he murmured thoughtfully. Beside him, Cid swore at the lunacy of the whole thing.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just not 'Jenova Project.'"

Reeve grinned in the biggest expression of delight Sephiroth had seen the usually slightly downcast executive wear. "Well, then! Sephiroth will see to Project Pink." He sobered. "Many of the documents you'll be looking over will be copies of what you saw in Nibelheim, so while you're on the job, you'll have extra guards—you are not, under any circumstance, to examine any of those documents alone. Understood?"

Sephiroth drew himself up and nodded solemnly. "Understood, sir."

Reeve looked momentarily nonplussed, but gathered himself quickly. "Okay. Did anyone else have anything to add?" His hazel eyes flicked over the faces of all those assembled. Seeing nothing forthcoming, he rose, and everyone else seated at the table followed suit. Sephiroth pushed off from the wall and distributed his weight evenly on both legs, subtly straightening his spine in the greatest show of respect he could force himself to show a Shinra executive.

"We'll meet again in one week, unless something important comes up. So, let's get to work, people!" the President said, clapping his hands together in an energetic gesture at odds with the circles under his eyes and his rumpled clothes. Everyone filed out after him.

Standing in the hall, Sephiroth realized he had no idea where 'Project Pink' was going on. Almost everyone had already dispersed to their various duties, so there was no one to ask. Maybe his guards knew…

"Hey."

Sephiroth turned as he was addressed, more than a little surprised to find Ms. Lockheart standing there.

"I'll walk you to 'Pink' headquarters. It's on my way."

Sephiroth nodded graciously, while inwardly fuming over having to accept aid from his rival for Cloud's affection. They walked in silence for several long minutes, Tifa kicking idly at the ground as she went. Sephiroth walked as though everything were normal, simply shortening his stride a bit to accommodate her shorter legs and his injuries.

"Sorry," she blurted suddenly into the quiet. He frowned and glanced over at her.

"For what?"

She scowled, playing with the straps of her fighting glove. "Yesterday. I was suspicious and didn't even give you a chance. And I hit you when you couldn't defend yourself—I don't do that. So, sorry. I promised Cloud I'd give you a chance and here it is." She grabbed his arm in a powerful grip, for the unenhanced, and pulled them both to a stop. "But get one thing straight. I watched Cloud get jerked around by Jenova and that Clone. I saw the heartache and confusion he went through—saw how much he suffered. I'm not doing it again. If you hurt him in the slightest way, I don't care if you're strong enough to break me in half, I **will** fold you into a little origami box to keep my jewelry in, you got it?"

Sephiroth quirked a brow. "An interesting threat. I quite understand the sentiment, Ms. Lockheart, and I assure you—I have no intentions of harming Cloud in any way."

"Good," the girl stated belligerently. She glared at him a moment longer, then set off again.

Once again following a half-pace behind here, Sephiroth wondered what it was about Cloud that inspired in those around him the desire to protect him. Oh, he'd had a fairly unhappy childhood, scorned by the villagers because his parents came from elsewhere—though, they'd obviously come from somewhere else in the region, because he displayed the early maturity found only in Nibel natives. Still, though he'd taken to being paranoid and carrying a weapon with him at all times, he'd been strong through it all. And the self-motivation necessary to be a Regular, a student at the University in an accelerated program, and a SOLDIER hopeful was hardly characteristic of someone in need of 'protection.'

Still… Zack had wanted to protect him on sight, gritting his teeth as Cloud's lecherous commanding officer made advances, even before he'd learned Cloud's name. He, of course, wished to protect Cloud from…well, just about everything that could possibly be a threat. He throttled the impulse, if only because Cloud would likely deck him for thinking him 'weak.' And here was Tifa, a girl who had rained emotional abuse on Cloud from an early age, and even she would now do anything in her power to keep the blond safe.

Sephiroth frowned as they stopped outside one of the many beat up buildings that were all that was usable in Midgar—everything else was either a tent, which wasn't so great for secret research, or rubble. There were two SOLDIERs standing outside the doors as guards, and several more were coming and going, some with arms full of papers, others lugging heavy equipment or bits of rubble. A few Regulars paraded by in formation, though a few turned their heads to stare at him.

He frowned. "What have they said about me?"

Tifa glanced toward the Regulars, then shrugged. "Not a whole lot. That Meteor was the work of a clone and its mysterious benefactor Jenova. That the real Sephiroth is back in Midgar, and will be helping out with reconstruction. That's about it." Sephiroth nodded and she looked at him. "Well, this is Sector Three headquarters. 'Project Pink' is based here, though it's really in the embryonic stages, right now." She turned to go—back the way they'd come, because Sector Three was definitely not on the way to Sector Seven, no matter her excuse to tag after him—but paused and turned back to him.

"Good luck. I don't trust you yet, and I'll probably never like you, but I like Jenova even less, at the moment. Anything you can do to help us find a way to kill her, you do."

Sephiroth nodded. "I would do no less."

Tifa nodded in return, then strode away. Sephiroth took a breath, then headed inside with his guards to face his first day on the job.

* * *

Happy Halloween! 

Okay, that's part 12. Hope you liked it! Tifa's never going to be my favorite character, and she's never going to be Sephiroth's friend either. I hate her because she's clingy and **really** not good for Cloud—he's already screwed up enough without adding her problems to the mix! However, I do think that she's grown fond enough of Cloud to try not to hurt him, even if she's pretty clumsy about it. And I thought about having Cloud suggest to her that she get with Rude, but I figured she'd both blow a gasket and decided Cloud really is all nuts again. Then she'd **never** butt out! Poor Sephiroth's temper is strained enough as it is without her constant presence hanging over him like a storm cloud, the guillotine, or a particularly evil set of in-laws.

Happy birthday me! And in honor of the occasion, not only have I posted this part, but those who are grown up and interested may check out my new Castlevania fic on adultfanfiction. That is http(colon, double slash)adultfan(dot)nexcess(dot)net(slash)aff. Don't you love how slashy the internet is? (grin) The fic is called _Death Interrupted_ and is definitely not for kiddies. If you're interested, please go check it out and tell me what you think.

Until next time!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	13. Literal and Metaphorical Slime

Hi!

Happy New Year! I know, it's been a while. Sorry. I honestly can't remember if this bit was beta-read, and I'm too tired to check. There's a bad flu going around and my whole family's been down with it since before Christmas. Blegh.

Anyway, here's the next part. Starts a little funny, gets less so. Enjoy.

* * *

Cloud barely glanced up from his reactor printouts when Sephiroth arrived for the night, closing the door with a courteous goodnight to his afternoon guards. Once the door was closed, Sephiroth made a beeline for the kitchen, swearing under his breath about idiot guards, lack of respect, and lack of privacy. Cloud shrugged slightly, pushed a lock of his newly cut hair behind his ear, and returned to studying the printouts. 

Scant minutes later, Cloud shot up off the couch at what might almost have been a scream from the other man. It turned quickly into Sephiroth bellowing his name in the way mothers did when they were exceptionally cross. Cloud thanked heavens he had no middle name, because he'd seen how the inclusion of such could paralyze the individual in question by sheer virtue of the scarcity of its use. Deciding running away would be abandoning his post, Cloud crept into the kitchen, wondering what all the fuss could be about.

"What's going o—Bahamut's scales, what is **that**!"

Cloud, like Sephiroth, stared with horrified fascination into the refrigerator, where it appeared Jenova herself had taken up residence, given the thick, varicolored goo coating almost every surface.

"What the hell did you do to my refrigerator!" Sephiroth demanded, eyes snapping vivid sparks as he glared at Cloud. He continued in a voice dripping threat. "This had better not be one of your experiments, or so help me, I'll—"

"What?" Cloud yelped in return. "I didn't do anything!"

Sephiroth scowled. "Well, that's the problem, then. Five-and-a-half years of mold, rot, and decay. Splendid. Is my pantry going to be in the same state? The cupboards?"

Cloud held his hands up in a warding gesture. Sephiroth could be freaky about territory sometimes, and there was probably no place more 'his' than the kitchen. Seeing it in such a state…well, Cloud didn't want to get caught in the line of fire. Although, if Sephiroth went all Nibelheim here, it might just make the place livable—all that fire would at least kill the—was that **really** a **mold**? Oh, eww.

"What are you talking about? You know I barely touch the kitchen! I've been eating at the mess since I got here, and half the time I've been too tired to do even that! Like I was gonna come in and clean!"

Sephiroth sighed. "Fine, fine, grab me a trash bag." As Cloud did that, Sephiroth jerked off his gloves, tied his hair in a knot to keep it out of the way, and pulled on the rubber gloves he used to use for washing dishes. Cloud held out the bag, but Sephiroth reached right into the 'fridge and scooped out a huge double handful of gunk. Jostling it released a stink that made Cloud's stomach rebel, and worse, Sephiroth was coming toward him with it.

"Ah, oh, Holy, nasty! Keep that stuff away from me!"

Sephiroth glared. "No. You hold the trash bag, and I'll do the dirty work. Though, it would help if you came a little closer so I don't have to walk all this way, dripping rot-juice everywhere."

Cloud, in what he considered an act of bravery comparable to facing down any number of Clones, stepped forward to meet the silver-haired man, holding the bag as far from his body as he could manage. The stuff made a wet plop when Sephiroth let it go, then oozed down the inside of the bag. Cloud fought his revulsion down—if he complained too much, Sephiroth was likely to make **him** clean the 'fridge, and really, better just holding the bag.

Did that mold just **wave** at him?

Eventually, the gunk was cleaned out—Sephiroth had even gone through with sponges and a bottle of old bleach, throwing the sponges into the bag when he was done with them, followed by the gloves. Cloud watched the older man close the door, looking well satisfied with himself. He looked at Cloud with a vaguely puzzled expression.

"What are you doing still here?" He gestured imperiously with one hand. "Take that outside—there's no way it's sitting in the house one moment longer! And after that, if you want, you can go back to…whatever it is you were doing before I interrupted you." He had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. "I'll just…get started on the pantry."

With a shrug, Cloud hefted the bag—holding it as far away from his body as possible, of course—and headed outside. He placed it carefully on the dumpsite by the sidewalk and fumbled with the shielding on the case—damn child locks! Finally, he managed to get around the only thing Shinra had **ever** done to protect people, and pressed the button that would remove the bags from their property and send them to the incinerator.

Unfortunately, it didn't work.

Swearing, Cloud tried again. And again. And again, until he finally had to concede defeat. Someone was going to have to **carry** the bag full of gelatinous slime to the dump, and since Cloud had to walk in pretty much the opposite direction in the morning…

Oh, Sephiroth was not going to be happy about this, at all.

Cringing, Cloud tiptoed back into the house. Maybe he could just take off early in the morning and take it himself? Less opportunity for Sephiroth to be angered-slash-offended that way, which could only be a good thing. On the other hand, some day, Sephiroth was likely to take some trash out on his own—the man **was** scrupulously neat, though fortunately not obsessive about it. And if he went out expecting to press a button and have done with it, and that's not what happened, and he discovered Cloud had known about it… No, far less painful now, when there was nothing in the kitchen to cook and deny Cloud for his trespass.

"Ah, Seph," he called hesitantly into the house. "I, um, think we may have a problem…" There was no answer, and Cloud felt a stab of sharp panic slide through him. First night and he'd already managed to lose track of his charge? What was he going to tell the Colonel?

Going back to the rack by the door for Ultima Weapon would be too obvious at this point, so he just checked he had his knife ready, should he need it. Then he advanced toward the kitchen, just slowly enough to be cautious, but not so much so that he was going to offend Sephiroth if he **wasn't** actually up to anything.

As he drew near, he heard a strange watery sound and what might have been a soft gasp. With visions of mold monsters on the rampage blurring through his mind—even though he really **had** seen worse things, and even made them in the lab—Cloud charged into the kitchen. The pantry door was open and there was a neat stack of cans and boxes beyond expiration. Fortunately, pantries usually contained dry goods or preserved goods, so there was no killer mold in evidence. Some of the cans were swollen—bacteria obviously working away—but none appeared to have burst.

But for some reason, Sephiroth was seated on the ground in front of the open door, clutching something in his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He was rocking slightly, and Cloud was shocked to see his shoulders shake in what had to be a sob, though there was no sound. Worried, Cloud stepped close to the other man, crouching beside him and carefully placing a hand on one shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked the older man.

Sephiroth sniffed slightly, as though trying not to be obvious about it, and turned his face away. "It's nothing," the general ground out, his voice perfectly controlled.

Obviously, Cloud was skeptical.

Peering carefully around Sephiroth's shoulder, Cloud tried to figure out what the man was cradling so carefully. After a moment, he realized it was one of those store-bought, individually wrapped donut sticks he'd always hated so much. Sephiroth had been willing to eat them in a pinch, but he too had never cared for them. Why was he…?

Wait. Hadn't they been Zack's favorite?

Carefully, Cloud slipped the hand on Sephiroth's near shoulder across to the far side, draping his arm around his neck and squeezing slightly as he pressed himself against the larger man's side. This close, Cloud could easily feel the fine tremors working up and down Sephiroth's body.

"Is it Zack?" he asked softly, unsurprised when Sephiroth didn't respond for several minutes. He simply sat in silence, waiting until Sephiroth would tell him…and he **would** tell him, eventually. Finally, the silver head jerked in a tiny, spasmodic nod, and Cloud squeezed Sephiroth's broad shoulders again. "Want to talk about it?"

The silence between them dragged out like cold honey, stretching and stretching, but never breaking. Only it wasn't nearly as sweet, more like some of the sludge Cloud had just finished carrying to the curb. Just when the silence grew almost painful, Sephiroth blurted out, with none of his usual grace, "Can't stop, now. I'll deal with this later. Gotta finish cleaning." He was shaking even harder and his voice had developed a slightly hysterical edge. He started to rise to his feet, reaching back into the pantry, but Cloud grabbed his outstretched hand and jerked the other man back to the tile.

"No, Sephiroth, the pantry will keep. That stuff's been sitting there for five years—there's no reason it can't wait while you deal with this."

Sephiroth turned wounded, wild eyes on him. "'This' has been sitting for a while, too. It can wait! The kitchen…it's dirty. I have to clean it up. Clean it up!" He struggled to get up again, but Cloud easily held him back by his grip on his hand.

"It's dirty?" he asked quietly. "Or you are?"

Sephiroth went very still beside him, the Mako glow in his eyes dimming so much that his natural eye color showed through for several moments. Then the light flared so brightly it could rival halogen beams, and he again surged upward. This time, Cloud couldn't hold him so easily. The silver haired man kicked and thrashed in his grasp as Cloud was finally forced to sweep his legs from under him and pin him to the floor. And still the crazed man fought, resorting to biting and cursing. But Cloud did his best imitation of an immovable object, ignoring the bruises and bites until Sephiroth finally collapsed under him, drained from his injuries and from his emotional state.

And finally, Sephiroth started to weep. This time, he wasn't even attempting to hide it, just sobbing, head forced back by the hair trapped under his body, and eyes squeezed shut. Cloud held him down a few moments longer, then lay down on top of his old friend and lover, knowing he'd find the weight comforting. It was a long time before the deluge ceased, and it got worse, then better, then worse again several times before it did. At one point, he'd actually been howling his misery and helpless rage—thank Holy that hadn't lasted long, since Cloud's ears reported that Sephiroth's vocal cords were clearly healthy.

Once the tears stopped, Sephiroth just lay beneath him, still and silent, as though his spirit had been released with the salt water. Cloud lay just as still, listening to the slightly-off but slowing rhythm of Sephiroth's heart and the gurgle of lungs congested from such…energetic weeping.

"It's not right," Sephiroth's usually smooth baritone said into the quiet, sounding like he'd swallowed glass. "Zack…"

Cloud nodded against the bigger man's chest, then sat up to stare into Sephiroth's face. "You're right; it isn't right. Or fair, or just, or whatever you want to call it. But it's true. He's gone, except for the little bits of him we each carry—me perhaps a little more than you. And it hurts. They say it hurts less as time goes by, and maybe it's true. So far in my experience, I'm inclined to believe that's bullshit, but I'd like to hope it's true. Zack would be upset to know he's causing us pain."

Sephiroth sighed softly. "You're right. He'd probably smack the both of us for it, too." He opened his eyes and looked up at Cloud for a moment, then turned his head to look at the open pantry. He sighed again, more wearily this time. "I don't think I feel like cleaning right now. Sleep, maybe, but I have to eat something, or I'll never heal."

Cloud stood up and held out a hand to assist the other man to his feet. "Go ahead and nap. I'll see if I can liberate us some food from the mess."

"Will they let you?"

"They had better."

Sephiroth smiled wanly. "You know, I think I see what you mean about the bit of Zack we carry. It's strange, given how long I knew him, you'd think I'd be the one he rubbed off on most. But sometimes, I swear you just…" Sephiroth shook his head. "I remember him well, but you've caught his essence."

The weary super SOLDIER staggered off in search of his bed, oblivious to the stricken look on his companion's face.

* * *

_(Just over three months later.)_

Sephiroth scowled and massaged his temples in the vain hope it would ease the pounding in his skull, the intensity of which was steadily building to migraine levels. He wished Cloud would hurry up and come back to Midgar—the blond was out helping the TURKs retrieve Tseng, now that they finally had a lead as to his whereabouts. Reno had been working non-stop for the last three months to find the lost TURK, though the redhead's version of 'work' seemed to involve sitting very still, walking to Kalm and back, playing in the dirt in a little church in Sector Five, and the like. He called it 'talking to the Planet,' but if he tried to go into any further detail, Sephiroth just got a headache. He eventually just stopped asking questions, knowing it had to be effective, or Reno wouldn't be wasting his time with it.

Meanwhile, as Cloud was out scouring the southern archipelago for the Wutaian TURK, Sephiroth was shut up in Sector Three headquarters on day five of his six-day workweek, reading some of the most horrifying documents he'd ever been unlucky enough to have pass across his desk. And he'd had a lot of documents on his desk in his Shinra days, and some of the worst in the past three months.

Project Pink—unfortunately, Yuffie's name, offered in jest, had stuck—was surprisingly large. Sephiroth had never thought that so much of Hojo's research, notes, and data could have survived. After all, he himself had torched Nibelheim—pretty thoroughly, by most accounts. And while Hojo had been a terrifyingly obsessive note-taker, he'd been even more obsessed with the secrecy of his projects. Sephiroth had fully expected all of Hojo's files to delete themselves upon the mad scientist's death. And to be honest, some had. However, years and years of work had remained, as well as copies of Professor Gast's files, and everything directly related to the SOLDIER program. Sephiroth had even found a few meticulously kept procedurals by a 'Virga Strife' and recalled the implications of Cloud's old sword. Cloud had frowned at him when he'd brought it up, and spent the evening with his eyes focused past whatever was in front of him.

All that surviving data was a blessing—it greatly increased the chances that it was possible to find some useful information on Jenova and her weaknesses. Unfortunately, it also meant that they had storerooms full of hardcopy to wade through, stacks of hard drives full to capacity with information, much of it only tangentially relevant, if even that. They had material ranging from mythology to Hojo's files, second-hand accounts to digital video, and precious little of it was labeled for content or organized in any way. Those assigned to the Project had to wade through the chaos file by file, page by page, disk by disk, until all of it was sorted.

At first, Sephiroth had been a part of that effort, but as the number of characterized files went up, more and more of the personnel got to work actually searching for usefulness in the newly ordered stacks of information. Admittedly, it was kind of interesting at times—Sephiroth had never known much about the Ancients, and reading through accounts of them, mythology based on them, had been fascinating. He'd been especially interested in learning about the first contact with Jenova, the madness she spread among the Cetra, and how they sealed her away. Unfortunately, he'd only come up with vague references to a circle, Holy, and joining opposite elements. Whatever the hell that meant. Not to mention a whole lot of samples of Cetra writing that no one on the Planet remembered how to read. So, like everyone else, he'd been forced to look to Hojo's notes for enlightenment.

Ha. Enlightenment? The man's handwriting looked like a dying spider had staggered across the page—it was almost as unreadable as the Cetra script—and much of his work with Jenova was distinctly maniacal in tone. Hard facts about Jenova were elusive, though they had pages upon pages of description of things he'd done to his helpless specimens. Sephiroth had even found a full five page rant about someone he suspected to be Vincent, given the graphic descriptions of exactly what he was going to do to his 'pretty, covetous eyes.'

He'd immediately marked that section of the file off limits until further notice and sent a runner for the raven-haired man. Vincent's typically pale complexion had turned grey as he read the file, and Sephiroth had offered to keep it sealed indefinitely, since it had no direct bearing on their task. The almost pathetically grateful look Vincent had given him had both disquieted him and made him absurdly proud. The blood-eyed man unsettled him rather a lot, and he still couldn't shake the feeling that the man was somehow familiar, but he'd managed to do something good for him, anyway. Of course, because people still didn't trust him completely, he'd had to present his case for sealing those pages to Reeve and Andrews. He'd managed to do it without giving away any real details or who was involved, citing confidentiality clauses built into Shinra policies. The few details he had given had sickened the others into agreeing easily.

But Vincent was just the tip of the iceberg. The files were full of such descriptions—what Hojo intended to do, how, audio—and occasionally video—accounts as he actually performed the procedures, results and project synopses. It was horrifying reading, especially since he'd stumbled over some of the notes about the Clones, and couldn't help but imagine such things happening to Cloud. The nightmares haunted his sleep, the screams recorded forever on audio and videotapes managing to warp into Cloud's voice wailing in agony. Insomnia was becoming a good friend of Sephiroth's, bitter black coffee the magic charm to ward off the black despair of sleep.

Project Pink had standing orders not to let anyone handle the really hardcore stuff for more than a week at a time, and every three weeks they got one off. As soon as he could manage it, Sephiroth had arranged to be doing during that week the physically exhausting heavy lifting they'd mentioned to him at the start. If he was exhausted, the nightmares occasionally skipped over him entirely. It took a lot to exhaust him, so the heap of rubble in Sector One he'd been assigned to for those off weeks was visibly smaller than its neighbors. The other three weeks in the cycle, it was back to caffeine and pacing until he could hold back sleep no longer. By the end of that first cycle, Sephiroth had managed to procure for himself a huge mug for his coffee, identical to the others that had been appearing on the desks around him.

Less distressing than the actual work, but still irksome, was the way the people assigned to the Project watched him. Oh, everybody watched everybody else for signs the stress was becoming too much—paranoia and vigilance had already saved them from one scientist who came in one day intending to shoot up all the evidence of such vile research. Unfortunately, he'd considered all those who were reading the files to be evidence, too. Of course, the man had never held a weapon before in his life and only managed to score a flesh wound on one of the SOLDIERs before he was dog-piled under half a dozen others. The SOLDIER in question had cursed, kicked the downed scientist once in revenge, and turned back to his work, occasionally complaining about the hole in his uniform. The wound had been mostly healed by the end of the day.

So, Sephiroth had all kinds of respect for the enforced breaks, professional paranoia, and routine psychological evaluations. But many of these people had read the accounts of how he'd come into being, and watched him all the more carefully. They had more idea than most what he could do, and just how inhuman he was. It was all kept strictly classified, but just because they couldn't talk about it with others didn't mean it wasn't discussed among themselves. They feared him, and that sensation of isolation, even among those people who understood his nature best, those people who saw him every day… It made him remind himself much more often and more forcefully of Nibelheim and why he couldn't afford to lose his temper.

That was a big part of why he wanted Cloud back so badly. He doubted the blond was in danger, and if he was, it couldn't possibly be anything he couldn't fight his way out of. But, though their relationship had nowhere near recovered, they were friends again. Tentative and uncertain, most of the time, and they'd had some truly spectacular arguments, but they were also close in ways the differences in their experiences had prohibited before. They told each other secrets, grumbled about coworkers and bosses, bitched about the broken garbage system and the limited availability of foodstuffs outside of mess. Cloud was functioning as Sephiroth's anchor to sanity, these days, whether he knew it or not, and being without him made Sephiroth…twitchy. It reminded Sephiroth just a bit of how things had been with Zack, and if the reminder hurt, it was also comforting.

Anyway, this week Sephiroth was buried to his eyeballs in some of the worst of Hojo's journals. He'd been looking into the madness Jenova seemed to carry with her—most every reference to her had included some form of insanity or behavior alteration, from the accounts of the Cetra, to Hojo's experiments. Apparently, some of the workers on the dig site where she'd been unearthed had gone mad, too. Trying to track down any references to how this power worked had unfortunately led Sephiroth straight to the Clones and Reunion. Sephiroth would have liked to pass it off to another on the Project, but most of the group was looking into Jenova's widespread use as a vector in genetic experiments in the last few decades, and those who remained were researching the Cetra again, following some new information Red XIII had discovered for them.

So Sephiroth had sat for hours, folded into one of those horrible little folding chairs that were never comfortable and put your butt to sleep in two minutes flat, and read all about exactly how Hojo had gone about destroying a personality and creating a new one to put over it. And he did it every day of the week, eyes tracing the spidery scrawl and praying every moment not to run across any direct reference to Cloud or Zack.

Sighing, he propped one elbow on his desk, resting his head in his hand and still rubbing absently at his temple. His other hand slowly paged through the thick, hard-covered research notebook. The pages smelled of mold and chemicals, and there were stains on some of the pages ranging from coffee rings to blood. The paper was of a fairly good quality for writing, but Hojo's straggly writing made much of it difficult to make out, anyway. In order to aid in the reading of the difficult scrawl, Sephiroth also trailed the fingers of his free hand along the figures.

_X year, X month, X day. Specimen made contact with Jenova in the guise of Sephiroth. It's taken almost two years for it to happen, and I cannot fathom how it managed to hold out so long against Her power. Still, that strength could prove useful. I hope to make it the first full copy. The others have been useful for testing the methods and will be kept for now as backup in case this attempt fails. Specimen C is…_

Sephiroth's mind choked, rereading all of the entry he had managed so far, unable to get past 'Specimen C.' His frantic mind flashed with every bit of knowledge he'd gleaned from the files, from Cloud's AVALANCHE friends, and from the blond himself. Hadn't 'Specimen C' been Cloud's designation while in the lab?

Oh, Holy, he was reading about Cloud.

Sephiroth slammed the book shut, jerking to his feet and shaking with hatred and revulsion. He ignored the startled gazes around the room and the way the SOLDIERs slipped hands toward weapons. He stood glaring at the book, trying to get his breathing under control. His thoughts whirled around his brain too fast to really register—all he was really aware of was the sudden desire to have Hojo back so he could kill him again, more slowly and painfully this time.

When Project Pink had started, Cloud had told Reeve that they could do whatever they wanted with any information they found regarding him. In fact, he'd forbidden them from sealing his files, saying defeating Jenova was more important than his privacy. At the time, Sephiroth had been vaguely proud of the blond, but he'd never envisioned having to read through those accounts himself! The thought of going back to that book made him want to vomit—he'd have to find something else to occupy himself with until he could scrape up the courage to face its revolting contents again.

He grabbed his mug off the side of his desk and went in search of more coffee. He heard his guards sigh, marking their places in the files they were reading and following after him, more than one also picking up mugs.

Sephiroth entered the deserted break room—more of a large walk-in closet really. Fortunately, with just a little over an hour left in the work day, there wasn't much demand for coffee, the only reason anyone actually went to the stuffy little place. He poured a large mug full for himself, then poured for any of his guards with mugs, ignoring the shock on their faces. Anything to keep occupied. He wished there was a chance in hell of him actually getting his hands on real groceries—he would have loved to stop at the store on the way home and then bake all night. He couldn't work off his stress at the gym because he'd probably kill someone, and he couldn't just find some abandoned part of the city to scream in until the need was gone because of his guards. Also because of his guards, he couldn't really see himself tromping through the crumbling bowels of the city killing monsters.

He pushed fingers through his hair, disheveling it, but for once unable to make himself care. Distracting himself wasn't working very well, and he still had almost an hour to kill. Scowling, he swept back to his desk, plunking down in his chair and staring at the file. Questioning gazes were passed around the room, but he again ignored his coworkers. Maybe reading this would be like nightmares—it was easier if you just finished it.

Dread weighting his limbs, Sephiroth leaned forward and opened the book.

* * *

Hi, again. 

Hope everyone enjoyed it. If you did, tell me. If not…well, tell me that, too. Emails and reviews are accepted enthusiastically. Despite my tremendous lack of energy at this moment. Really.

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	14. Lookin' For Love

Hi, all!

Yes, it's been forever. I'm sorry. On the plus side, this part's a teeny bit longer than usual and more will be forthcoming shortly. Really. I swear. Actually, this was going to be up sooner, but then Dirge of Cerberus came out… Yeah, I wasn't writing much. I beat it Saturday morning (12:38 AM, in fact), took a breather, and now, here I am, writing author's notes and posting the next chapter of my baby! I really hope you all enjoy it!

Special thanks to my beta, who's still sticking with me after even this absence—Allanon! Reviewer of the Chapter award goes to (cue drum roll) Inu Hanyou for a very long, question-riddled review that encouraged me that people were noticing some of the right things! Thanks, Inu Hanyou!

Now, on to the story! More notes follow!

SECTION BREAK

Cloud peered around the ruins of Mideel. It hadn't changed much since he was here last. Big hole in the ground filled with Lifestream: check. Ramshackle huts scattered around the hole: check. Crazy ass white pygmy Chocobo begging greens off him: check.

Although, perhaps the place had grown a bit. The buildings seemed to extend a bit further into the trees, though maybe that was due more to the voracity of the semi-tropical jungle. One side of the Lifestream hole had crumbled a bit, leaving a small peninsula of collapsed material protruding toward the center of the hole, partially submerged to about ankle depth. The shopkeepers had edged a little farther from the apparently unstable banks, too, but that was pretty much the only change. The air was still permeated with the sharp smell of Lifestream, and the people were still stubbornly determined to make the best out of their situation. Was it possible to be upbeat and depressed at the same time? Apparently so, because Cloud was seeing that peculiar combination of emotions all over the place, of late. Midgar was the same, now—everyone there had lost everything, but they were determined and even happy.

Cloud turned at the sudden sneeze beside him. Reno rubbed irritably at his nose, eyeing the pool of standing Lifestream warily.

"Shit, I hate this town," the redhead grumbled, nose crinkling as if he was going to sneeze again. He got the impulse under control and looked at Cloud. "Doesn't the smell bother you?"

Cloud shrugged. "Not so much. Mako used to bug me when we used it in lab, but then I got to spend almost five years suspended in the stuff. Got used to it. And Lifestream's not as bad as Mako."

Reno shrugged back, turning his pale eyes on the glowing pool. "I guess." He paused and looked out over the town. "Must be pretty at night."

"Must be," Cloud returned noncommittally. They stood together for another couple moments, then Reno shook himself.

"Well, let's find Tseng."

Cloud trailed after the redhead as they picked their way down the somewhat perilous road into town, Rude and Elena tagging along at a slight distance. Cloud was still somewhat surprised that all the TURKs had come along. On the one hand, Tseng was their leader, much beloved by his men—the TURKs were small enough, especially the mainline ones, that they had always been close-knit. And Tseng was charismatic, capable, and had a good reputation for taking care of his people. Their loyalty was understandable. Still, they were also charged with protecting the President, even if he was only the interim President, and the TURKs seemed fond enough of Reeve.

That they had **all** left him seemed…odd. Elena had stepped so fully into the position of Reeve's primary aide that Cloud would have expected her to stay—of course, she'd been more than a bit in love with Tseng. Cloud wondered if she knew about Tseng and Reno. Then there was Rude. Surely, he would have stayed with Reeve in the absence of all the others. Yet, Rude seemed to be providing some sort of moral support for Reno, which could only be a good thing. Cloud really hoped that they found Tseng. Reno was looking pale and strained, having worn himself to the bone looking for his lover. A resolution was needed, and it was needed now.

Entering the village itself, they all paused to look around. Some of the villagers gave the suited TURKs anxious glances, but they all knew Cloud. He'd used the jungles around here to hone his skills and AVALANCHE's teamwork prior to Meteor, so Mideel—especially the free clinic—had become a major base for them. Not to mention the time Cloud had spent in a Mako-clouded haze, unable to make sense of sight or sound, locked in fragmented hallucinations of Aeris, Sephiroth, and Jenova.

"That way." Cloud jerked his chin toward the clinic.

Reno nodded and clambered up the steep incline to the noticeably more stable ground of the clinic, the others following. Cloud smiled at the nurse, bobbing a small bow in greeting. She smiled back at him, bowing in return.

"Mister Cloud! Welcome! Did you need healing?" Her eyes trailed over his companions, a small frown appearing as she registered the uniforms. "What's going on?"

Cloud smiled. "Don't worry. No problems."

Reno smiled his best smile, looking as sincere as Cloud had ever seen him. "We're just looking for a friend. Do you have anybody Wutaian, male, about five inches taller than me, probably with an injury to the midsection."

The nurse's face registered surprise for a split second, before shuttering abruptly. Her face was professionally blank, but her eyes were alight with suspicion. Reno, however, was not fooled by the façade.

"He's here? He's here!" The redhead looked like he would jump out of his skin with excitement. "Tseng! **Tseng!**" he cried.

The nurse's face pinched. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask that you quiet down. It may not look like much, but this is a hospital!" Reno continued to call, and she turned to Cloud. "Mister Cloud! Please, contain your friend!"

"That won't be necessary," a soft voice said. Tseng, pale but alive, wheeled out of an adjacent tent room. Reno launched himself at the other TURK, kneeling at his feet and burying his face in his lap. Elena burst into tears, tossing her arms around the wheelchair-bound man's neck, her mascara running on his hospital gown. Even Rude stumped close to the little TURK huddle, resting one big hand on his boss's shoulder.

Cloud felt a little uncomfortable watching them—it was a TURK moment, and Cloud was not a TURK. He didn't know Tseng that well, and the last time they'd met, they'd been enemies, even if Tseng had given AVALANCHE some information in the Temple of the Ancients. Worse, Tseng had given quiet greetings to Rude and Elena, then turned his attention to Reno, stroking his hair and speaking in a quiet, comforting tone, as though to a small child—or to a lover. Cloud felt bitter envy rise in his throat like bile. Reno wept unashamedly, messily, and Tseng just held him, never judging, only offering comfort and support. It made Cloud ache for Sephiroth and the easy affection that had once been between them. He shifted uneasily, then froze as Tseng's grey-black eyes pinned him in place. Cloud shrugged slightly in apology, then deliberately turned his back on the scene.

"So, Wendy," he said to the nurse, effortlessly drawing her attention from the bizarre sight of all the senior TURKs having emotional breakdowns. "How have things been here? Is Doctor Marshall still seeing that floozy from Costa del Sol?"

SECTION BREAK

It was late. The sun had long since fallen from its zenith, and the red light of the dying day filtered through the thick vegetation at a nearly horizontal angle. On the rise the clinic was situated upon, the light made it through a little better. The tent flaps in the main area were flung wide open to make the most of the dim light, before they had to switch over to electric lighting, powered by the noisy and fuel-hungry generator down the way.

The TURKs had finally calmed. Rude stood impassively at Tseng's shoulder, while Elena vanished into the washroom for nearly ten minutes, before coming out as impeccably done up as always. Reno had splashed a little water on his face, but returned directly to Tseng's feet as soon as he was done. He wasn't crying anymore, but one hand was fisted in the blanket tucked around his legs.

"So," Tseng said levelly. "Was someone going to fill me in? Why is a known member of AVALANCHE standing completely unconcerned in a room full of Shinra personnel? And who is guarding the President?"

Elena shifted uneasily, glancing at Rude and Reno for support. Rude just shrugged, and Reno didn't lift his head, so she straightened her jacket and took charge as she had been doing the last several months.

"Sir, Shinra no longer exists, as such." At Tseng's calmly raised brow, she hurried on. "Sephiroth succeeded in summoning Meteor to destroy the Planet. In response, the Planet activated these huge monsters called Weapons that went around destroying everything. One of them launched a…well, sort of like a missile strike against Midgar." She hesitated, then looked Tseng right in the face. "It killed Rufus."

The skin around Tseng's eyes pinched, and what color he had ran right out of his face. "I see," he said very quietly, though the lack of volume could never be interpreted as calm. One hand clenched in Reno's hair, but relaxed quickly. "So, the Company's gone?"

"No," Reno said quietly against Tseng's knee. "Reeve is President. Scarlet and Heidegger got themselves killed trying to stop AVALANCHE from entering Midgar and stopping the Mako cannon from firing. Hojo was in league with Sephiroth and using the Mako cannon to give him energy, so AVALANCHE killed him, too. Reeve orchestrated the efforts to evacuate Midgar and keep the populace safe, so after Meteor was stopped, he just stayed in charge."

Elena laughed. "There's no one else left, really. Palmer, maybe, though the miserable coward hasn't shown his face in months—we'd all die if he were in charge. Besides, the people would probably riot if anyone tried to depose Reeve. They love him. Even Godo in Wutai is willing to sit at a table with him and discuss a treaty. Besides, he's an engineer, a city planner; he knows more about building, rebuilding, and supplying construction efforts than anyone else on the Planet, right now."

Tseng looked thoughtful. "Reeve, is it? He was always competent, if a little too timid and kind-spirited for Shinra. He doesn't like the TURKs, though."

Elena shook her head. "We did more or less force him to spy on AVALANCHE and hold a little girl hostage; he's every right to dislike us. Still, he's working well with us. He knows he can't afford to throw away resources."

"Actually," Cloud said mildly. "Elena has sort of stepped into the role of lead TURK and primary aide."

Tseng sent a narrow glance at Cloud, then looked up at Elena for confirmation. She blushed slightly, but bobbed her head in the affirmative. "It's true, sir. Reno was missing for a long time after Meteor, and Rude…" She smiled apologetically at the quiet man. "Well, he's never had any aptitude for paperwork, and everybody had to be working hard just to get the necessities for survival in place. Being the closest person to the President so I could guard him, I just sort of…took over some of the work. There was just too much to be done to bother Reeve with every little detail."

A real expression crossed Tseng's features. "Good work, Elena. I'm glad you are doing well." The blonde puffed up with pride at what was obviously a rare compliment from the TURK leader. But Tseng's expression changed again, this time to concern. "Are things that bad?"

Rude spoke for the first time. "Yes. Worse."

"It's a war zone," Cloud said solemnly. Tseng focused on him and he continued, knowing that the senior TURK was weighing everything he said—doubly so, since he was undoubtedly still 'the enemy' in his mind. "The city isn't even standing, anymore. Part of the Plate is still up—most of the SOLDIER sector, really—but much of the rest either collapsed, was torn away, or has been shattered and tossed all over the towns below. Over eighty percent of the population of Midgar is dead or presumed dead. Most of the rest of the Planet is doing better, now, but for nearly a month there, the whole world was seriously in disarray."

Tseng nodded slowly. "I tried to contact Midgar using the equipment here in Mideel a couple months ago, and when that failed, I tried all the other Shinra outposts I could think of—Junon, Costa del Sol, Rocket Town, even a couple places in Wutai."

"Good thing you did, sir," Elena said. "A partial transmission made it into Kari-Sarhat—Shinra's largest base in Wutai since the agreement President Reeve made with Lord Godo three months ago. We'd already been over Mideel a couple times since your, um, disappearance, but we focused mostly on the area immediately surrounding the Temple of the Ancients. That transmission made us redouble our efforts. Well, that and Reno coming back, insisting you were alive. We were unable to triangulate the source of the signal, but Reno did…something…that let him know where you were down to somewhere in this archipelago. We decided we'd try here first because of the clinic—if you were injured, it was more likely you'd be here than anywhere else."

Tseng frowned and glanced down at Reno. Cloud suddenly heard a low murmur in the back of his mind, the words indistinct, but the tone worried and questioning. It felt like nothing so much as a tickle on the inside of his skull, and he shivered.

"Oh, jeeze, could you not do that? Please?"

Tseng looked up at him, eyes hard and lit with a dangerous light, but Reno put his hand over his and shook his head. "He knows. Most of AVALANCHE does. With Shinra gone, there's not a heck of a lot of reason to keep hiding. Just because we're Cetra, AVALANCHE is willing to protect us, pretty much against all comers."

Tseng's hand relaxed slightly, and he again gave Cloud a narrow stare. Cloud nodded in response to the unspoken question.

"The Cetra can communicate with the Planet, learn where it's hurt, what it needs. Given the current condition of the Planet and of society, that knowledge is more valuable than ever before. The last thing we need is to inadvertently harm the Planet and activate the Weapons again. They were more than hard enough to beat the first time. Aeris would do her best to intercede for us, but the Weapons activated despite her before. And there's no telling how they would react if Sephiroth took the field against them—hell, I think Tifa'd try to kill him if he looked cross-eyed at Masamune."

Tseng, once again outwardly calm, crooked a brow. "Is there any particular reason why she should not harm him? It seems he came perilously close to destroying the Planet."

Cloud clapped a hand to his brow. He'd forgotten Tseng would have no way of knowing about Sephiroth. "Man, I so don't want to explain this again," he muttered to himself, not quietly enough since Tseng's other brow popped up to join its partner. "Look," Cloud continued. "In short. Hojo used parts of Jenova—who tried to wipe out the Cetra millennia ago—to make Sephiroth. He went crazy and burned Nibelheim, for which I tossed him into the Mt. Nibel Reactor. Hojo then attempted to use Jenova cells' mimicking powers to recreate Sephiroth using human subjects, myself included. One of those Clones took on enough of Sephiroth's personality to consider himself Sephiroth and to demand the obedience of the other Clones. That Clone called down Meteor at Jenova's behest. We—AVALANCHE, that is—killed that Clone, which freed Holy and the Lifestream to destroy Meteor, saving the Planet, though the damage to the surface was substantial, especially at Midgar, which is where the Meteor would have fallen. Then I became aware that the first Sephiroth was alive and retrieved him—with Reno's help—from the Mt. Nibel Reactor. Jenova is aware of his presence, too. Now he's on our side, researching ways to kill Jenova, but no one trusts him as far as they can spit into the wind in the Corel Desert. Got it?"

Tseng frowned. "You don't look much like Sephiroth. Though you don't sound quite like yourself anymore, either."

Cloud choked. Only Tseng would have picked up on the one bit of information Cloud hadn't explained, and linked it to his changed voice—something Cloud himself was growing so used to as to not think of it. Cloud shrugged. "Yeah, well, I was the failed Clone. The prototype, sorta. Jenova caught us on Mt. Nibel and tried to make me into Sephiroth when the others wouldn't give her the real deal. The voice sorta stuck. I'm told I resembled him closely for a few minutes, there."

Reno snorted and finally looked up from Tseng's legs, a smirk spreading across his face. "Dead ringer, more like. Right down to the length of the hair and the crazy vows to destroy us all."

Cloud grimaced. "Yeah, yeah, hush up, Reno. At least I didn't spend a month sleeping off the end of the world. Slugabed."

Reno snorted, but couldn't make any reply to that. Instead, he turned to Tseng. "Taka's well. He misses you, of course. He's staying with my little brothers, for now."

"And the President?" Tseng asked. Mentally, Cloud sighed in relief—if Tseng was already worrying over Reeve's safety, clearly he had no problem with the executive taking over what remained of Shinra.

"Some of the junior TURKs are on it, sir," Elena said. "And Yuffie. She wants to see the Shinra-Wutai peace hold more than anyone. Not to mention she won't let anything happen to the only person on the Planet with her cracked sense of humor."

"Yuffie?" Tseng asked. "Kisaragi?" He shook his head. "Things **have** changed."

"Speaking of which," Elena began hesitantly. "If you don't mind my asking, sir…where've you been? And what's with the chair? Sir."

Tseng smiled at her. "Relax, Elena. It's a legitimate question." He frowned, gazing into the middle distance, appearing to gather his thoughts. "As you know, Sephiroth—or the Sephiroth Clone, apparently—attacked me in the Temple of the Ancients. I was severely injured. I remember telling you," he looked at Cloud. "How to use the Keystone. Then…" his gaze went distant once more. "I'm not sure why, but I felt compelled to leave the Temple. Once out, I became lost in the forest. I passed out.

"When next I became fully aware, I was in a little hut elsewhere on the island, inhabited by an old couple. I had spent almost three weeks delirious with fever and weak with blood loss. The couple did what they could for me, helping me to regain my strength. They made monthly trips here for supplies they could not obtain on their island. When I was finally strong enough to go with them on one such trip, I came along. I knew of the clinic here as one of the best clinics in the world, and I thought I would have a better chance of making contact, or at least being found, in Mideel than a solitary hut amongst the trees.

"When I came here, the town was decimated, overtaken by the pool of Lifestream energy out there." He nodded to the glowing pool of Lifestream whose ghostly green light was overtaking the red glow of the evening sun. "No communication devices were operable, and all anyone could seem to speak of was the great red orb that had fallen from the sky, and the bright blue light that raced to meet it. Or perhaps of the whole pool there rising up in a pillar of swirling liquid and flowing north, like a river in the sky. I think this must have happened while I was still delirious, since I remember nothing like that.

"Anyway, the clinic was still functioning. They checked me over, healed what they could, all that time after the injury was inflicted. They say I'll walk again, in time. I'm just very weak, and the scarring is thick and extensive. Some internal organs were injured, too, which is slowing my recovery. Until I am stronger, I need the chair to get around—right now, I can stagger only a few steps."

Elena smiled bravely at him. "I'm glad you're alright then, sir. We've been doing alright without you, but it would be nice if you could come back soon." The others nodded in agreement.

Tseng smiled slightly at them, then frowned slightly. "What use would Reeve, of all people—probably the gentlest person to ever make it into the upper echelons of Shinra—have for TURKs?"

"It's not so much TURKs," Cloud commented. "More like every able-bodied person. Since you were the leader of the TURKs, and acknowledged by the company as one of the best, clearly you're an excellent fighter and quite an organizer, too. Organization is important, right now."

"Hmm." Tseng glanced thoughtfully over the faces of his TURKs. He held Reno's gaze the longest, and Cloud felt the tickle in the back of his mind that signified one of their conversations. He grimaced and tried to block out the feeling—it felt too much like Jenova's power for him to be comfortable with it. After a long—and for Cloud, uncomfortable—moment, Tseng looked up again, the voices fading away.

"We would not be required to fight?"

Cloud shrugged, mentally rejoicing that the TURK was considering it, because if he left, there was no doubt in Cloud's mind that Reno would follow. "Required? I don't think so. Reeve's of the opinion that if there's fighting to be done, people have to choose to do it. We've got no conscripted military, now, only what was around before and decided to stick it out. Most of the people of Midgar are willing to work in teams to restore the city, or at least make it livable, so the rebuilding effort doesn't need conscripts. There are some other places that are having less luck with their populations helping out, but they're also less severely damaged, so it's not really an issue, right now."

"So I could stop killing," Tseng murmured contemplatively. "I don't know what else I have in the way of job skills though. I can organize, but almost anyone can do that. I'll help as I can, of course, but confined to this chair, there's really not a whole lot I can do."

"Bullshit!" Cloud and Reno exclaimed together.

"Just because you're stuck in that chair," Reno continued. "Doesn't mean you're useless. Maybe almost anyone can organize, but you organize well, and you know how to lead people, and how to command their respect, even when they don't like you. Furthermore, you're our boss, and since we've made ourselves useful to the rebuilding effort, that makes you useful, too. And you know Shinra. You know where the bodies are buried—literally and figuratively. Who knows the kind of shit we'll run into in reconstruction? Having you around would be really beneficial to all the people in Midgar, even if you decide to never make your involvement public."

"Reno's right," Elena chimed. "Two weeks ago, one of the clean-up crews happened across a facility we didn't know about, and the automated defenses killed a third of them before they could even tell us what was happening. The total death toll was close to two thirds. I know you don't know everything there is to know about Shinra, and I doubt anybody knows where all of Hojo's facilities are, but you can help."

"Plus, you and Reno are Cetra," Cloud said, seeing that the TURK leader was almost convinced. "There is a desperate need for energy among the survivors. Some places had transitioned so completely to Mako that they can't function at all anymore without it. Reeve has ordered all Mako reactors onto their lowest possible settings, and is shutting down all those in Midgar as soon as it becomes safe to do so. So where are people going to get their energy? We've got people on it right now—my friend Barrett is using coal as a stopgap, but we all know that's a pollutant. Another friend, Red XIII, is looking into alternative energy sources, and he's one of the smartest people I know, with a background in Planet Science, too! But having Cetra around who can tell us 'don't do that, it will harm the Planet,' or better still, 'do this, it will help…'" Cloud shook his head. "Do you have any idea how valuable that is? The Planet already called the Weapons down on us once. Anything we can do to escape further self-defensive measures by the Planet is a good thing."

Tseng frowned. "Well, I'm not exactly the strongest of the People around," and his eyes drifted to Reno. "But I could probably help a little there. I don't want to see the Planet suffer any further."

Cloud smiled, happy the TURK had come down in favor of helping out, but Elena squeaked and actually threw her arms around him. The startled expression on the typically unflappable TURK's face was precious.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" the blonde chanted.

"Hey!" Reno said with mock indignation. "Hands off my man!"

Elena stuck out her tongue at him. "If all you hot men are gonna go around hogging each other, then you're just gonna have to get used to us poor women taking what we can get!" she said sassily.

Reno gave a sly smile. "Oh, yeah? Seems you girls might have to depend on each other, ne? And how's Yuffie these days, anyway? Since the two of you've been in each other's pockets the past few months, you should know. You still tie her up at night?"

Elena turned a very becoming pink, while Tseng turned his head to look at her with raised brows.

"There's nothing going on!"

"Suuuuure."

"Reeenoooo!"

The redhead dissolved into laughter, and even Rude cracked a smile. Once again feeling a little left out, Cloud nonetheless recognized that he'd done his job here. He helped Reno get Tseng back, and he'd netted the Wutaian Cetra for the rebuilding effort. Now, though, he really wanted to go home and see Sephiroth. Watching Reno and Tseng interact, even literally sharing thoughts, made him ache for the way things were Before Nibelheim. Even if things could never be that way again, it still felt good to be in the older man's company, despite the conflicting tangle his feelings always became when near him.

Before he'd left, things between them were settling down a little, finally. They each had their habits, and Sephiroth's especially hadn't changed much from Before. Cloud knew how to deal with Sephiroth in most of his moods—anger, frustration, amusement, weariness, chronic insomnia. Before, it had been more or less Cloud's business to determine Sephiroth's mood and help keep him on an even keel. Of course, he could no longer simply seduce the other man into a nicer temper, but Cloud knew numerous ways around that.

Though, he'd kind of like to just throw himself into Sephiroth's bed and deal with the relationship after. This tiptoeing around what had been was wearing.

Sephiroth was showing signs of interest, though, which was heartening. Though Cloud didn't know why that should surprise him—for Sephiroth, the gap between Before and Now was pretty short, and not nearly as traumatic as for Cloud. The poor man was probably confused by Cloud's on again-off again attitude. Hell, Cloud was confused. He wanted Sephiroth back—not to mention, just plain wanting him—but something in him was resisting. Partially, he knew he was afraid to commit himself again, in case Sephiroth flew off the deep end, **again**. He was also scared of what his friends would think—though knowing Vincent knew and more or less approved was comforting. Reno, too.

Unconsciously, Cloud began to twist the ring around his finger. His eyes caught again on Reno and Tseng. Tseng had a Mona Lisa smile flickering around his lips, and Reno was gazing up at him with open adoration. Once upon a time, he had been like that, had had that. Maybe they would have it again. Longing to be with Sephiroth welled up in him. He could practically feel his one-time lover's skin under his hands…

No, that was wrong. Cloud stared in horror down into Tseng's face, finding his hands wrapped around the Wutaian man's neck. He couldn't let go and promptly panicked. Sibilant laughter echoed in his ears as the other TURKs started shouting at him, blows beginning to fall.

_"How quickly they turn on you,"_ hissed Jenova's familiar voice, feeling like she was leaning right over his shoulder to pour her poisonous words directly into his ear. He shuddered, but his hands remained firm around Tseng's windpipe. He could feel the cold of tranquilizers being injected into him as the medical staff got involved, but they had no effect.

_/What do you want from me/_ Cloud demanded.

Again came that awful laughter. _"Why, haven't you figured it out, yet? You are and always will be a puppet. When I say dance, you dance. I have long known there was a Cetra there—they are difficult to miss. They exert such a pull on the Lifestream, and with an open pool of it right there… However, I did not know who exactly it was. And I had no agent of sufficient strength to ensure the thing was killed. But then you came._

_"You may be strong enough to hold me off much of the time, but near the Lifestream, where I can reach you more easily? No. Even your defenses must crumble before me. Reactors, Lifestream, Mako fountains…in these places and others, you are vulnerable. Even should you have a poor night's sleep…_

_"Poor child. Now you begin to understand what it is to be part of Me."_

Revolted, Cloud gave an almighty jerk with his mind, breaking free of her control. He didn't even register throwing Tseng aside or crumpling into a corner, shaking like a leaf. The heavy doses of tranquilizers and the aftereffects of three very pissed off TURKs beating on him were probably the only things that kept him from bolting.

Had he been more aware of his surroundings, he would have been touched by the way the TURKs immediately closed ranks around him as the nurses advanced with more drugs. He might even have taken comfort in Reno crouching beside him and rubbing random patterns on his back, murmuring soothing words. As it was, he quickly descended into a grey unawareness—too terrified to relinquish control enough to sleep, but exhausted and unwilling to face the world, just now.

SECTION BREAK

Hi, again!

So, Cloud's finally fulfilled his promise to Reno to help him find Tseng. Yay! Too bad Jenova went and interfered in their happy ending, ne? Sucks to be Cloud right now! Things will be looking way up next part, then crash again, then pick back up, so don't worry that it's going to be only downers.

Well, I've graduated, moved, and begun a job search. Joy. So right now I'm at my parents' house, and my computer has no internet access. I have to jump on my mother's just to check my email. Sucks big time. So, between all that craziness, limited internet access, and a new game…yeah, I'm really slow about getting stuff done, right now. Still send me comments or questions, though! I will read them eventually, and address direct questions as necessary.

So, yes! Questions, comments, and chocolate accepted at my email addy or by clicking that cute little button below to submit a review. I'd love to hear from everyone! See you again soon!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	15. Falling to Pieces

Hi, everyone!

I know, it's been a little while. Sorry. However, one this, the eve of the start of the rest of my life, I figured I'd finally post a part. This way, if tomorrow really sucks, at least I'll have something to look forward to at the end. Ne?

Special thanks to my beta readers Allanon and SVR. Especially SVR, who did most of the work this time. And thanks to Summercloud and Beatrisu, whose chocolate contributions made my day (as well as proving some people actually read these long-winded rambles of mine)!

Now, for those with motion sickness or weak constitutions, beware the dangers of emotional roller coasters and sudden changes in velocity—this chapter's a killer! $huggles chappie$

Please enjoy!

* * *

Sephiroth shot to his feet with everyone else when a very harried looking Reno finally entered. He knew only what everyone else knew, and that was all rumor and speculation. Something had gone Wrong while retrieving Tseng. The TURK was back safely—they'd already spoken, before Galen had whisked him away to check his condition for himself. But something was wrong with Cloud.

Reno glanced around the room, his eyes alighting on Sephiroth and brightening with relief.

"Sephiroth! Good!" The much smaller TURK grabbed him by a hand and dragged him toward a doorway and blithely ignoring Tifa's loud demands to see Cloud.

"**You** talk to him. Holy knows, I've tried to make him see reason, but **no**! He's holding himself responsible when anyone could see he was out of his head at the time. Now he's ranting about finding a place without the Lifestream so 'She' can't reach him. Like there is anyplace without the Lifestream!"

A cold ball of fear knotted in Sephiroth's belly at the words. Jenova had found a way to get into Cloud's head again, or so it seemed. And from his readings, Sephiroth now had a good idea of just how bad that could be. On the other hand, the timing seemed suspicious. Cloud had successfully warded off Jenova's assaults for months previously, his only lapse coming when she actually physically entered his body and took control. How had she managed to breach his defenses this time? Sephiroth didn't know, and that unnerved him.

They entered a small, white room. Huddled in a corner was Cloud. His hair was disarrayed, much of it having escaped his ponytail, and his casual clothes were rumpled. He'd clearly been biting his lips, and his eyes darted around the room like a paranoid. When his luminous gaze fixed on Sephiroth, he let out a little whimper and pressed back into his corner, burying his face in his knees.

Sephiroth froze in the door, shocked by the sight. Cloud seemed afraid of him, and just a few steps shy of broken. It was like looking into the past, to what he must have looked like when the primary Clone had used him so cruelly. Or maybe during the years spent at Hojo's mercy.

Still, the blond clearly needed him, so despite his anxiety, Sephiroth paced forward. Once he was within arms reach of Cloud, he stopped and crouched before him. Cloud cringed away, but his eyes flicked up to his face, full of fear and hope in nearly equal measure. Sephiroth slowly and gently reached up to stroke a few wild locks out of the blond's face, smiling fondly when Cloud leaned slightly into the caress, like a skittish wild chocobo just learning the pleasure of human touch.

"Hello, Cloud," he said quietly, watching the other man's eyes cut down to his mouth, as if the exact way he formed the words was of vital importance. Then the blond offered a distinctly half-hearted smile.

"Hello."

Sephiroth frowned. Something in the vaguely distant way he said it set off warning bells in the older man's head.

"Why don't you tell me what happened."

Cloud frowned. "I don't want to think about it. I **really** don't want to talk about it. Just leave me alone for a while, okay?"

Sephiroth might have been tempted, were it not for the transparency of the attempt to put distance between them. "Cloud, come on. What's the matter? You have to tell me what happened." Cloud shook his head violently, crushing back into the corner as though besieged. Sephiroth sighed. "Well, then, shall I tell you what I think happened? I think I have a pretty good idea, even though no one's saying anything." Cloud remained silent, his face turned toward the wall.

"Okay, then I'll just go ahead. I think Jenova slipped into your head and took control of your body. You were an empty shell for her, a puppet dancing on her strings, little more than a prisoner inside your own body." Cloud flinched at the word 'puppet,' which was why he'd chosen it in the first place, hoping to provoke a reaction. He still hated to hurt poor Cloud like that, though.

When Cloud made no further reaction he pushed onward, trying to break through to him. "She then attacked Tseng, using your hands, of course. She had probably discovered what he is, and decided to be rid of him. Judging by the black eye you've got fading, the other TURKs tried to stop you. Somehow, either they succeeded—unlikely—or you managed to stop yourself and squirm out from under Jenova's control. Then you proceeded to blame yourself for what happened. Am I right?" He didn't wait for a response—Cloud clearly wasn't about to make one.

"The only thing I can't figure out is how she got in to begin with. And why you're freaking out about the Lifestream. Care to enlighten me?"

Cloud looked up at him with haunted eyes, finally leaving his shell for a moment. "She didn't 'get in.' She's a part of me. She's always here, pawing through my memories and twisting my thoughts. She's always here…" His eyes unfocused and he started to rock subtly back and forth, wrapping his arms around himself as though for comfort.

Sephiroth shook his head and grabbed Cloud firmly by the shoulders, shaking him slightly to get his attention. "No, Cloud. **No**. That's what she wants you to think. But if that were true, there'd be no point trying to save me—I'd be her plaything no matter what. But here I am, sane and nonmalevolent. She may always be a part of you, but you don't have to let her control you."

"I **didn't**! She just took what she wanted!" Cloud was visibly seething now, rocketing from despair to rage fast enough to give Sephiroth whiplash. Sephiroth had to count it as a positive reaction, though he found himself double-checking that Ultima Weapon wasn't in the room.

"The main body of her consciousness is outside you, Cloud. No matter how many of her cells you possess, they can only transfer her thoughts to you, and strive to obey the call to Reunion. In order for her to get that degree of control over you, she had to have a great deal of power behind her."

"The Lifestream," Cloud intoned dully. "She said she used the Lifestream."

"Not possible," Reno said from the doorway, more than half forgotten. "Jenova's control over the Lifestream is tenuous, at best. She might be able to amplify her thoughts across it—it's full of thought and feeling, after all, and that's what it does—but she wouldn't be able to use its power as strength without me knowing about it. Or Tseng, for that matter."

"There, you see?" Sephiroth asked. "She lied to you. Not that this is an especially unusual occurrence, but I wonder what prompted her to expend the energy at that moment. Do you remember what was going on at the time?"

Cloud frowned thoughtfully. His body language had relaxed substantially, and now that his mind seemed engaged with the problem, he seemed to have lost all the previous skittishness. "I don't know. Reno was teasing Elena and everyone was getting a kick out of it. Then Reno and Tseng were being all gooshy. Then I was trying to strangle Tseng."

Sephiroth scowled. "That doesn't seem like motivation. She's not anti-romance. I doubt she even has a real concept of what love is. She certainly was crap as a 'Mother.' So what were you thinking about while you were watching this?"

The hesitance was back, though this was more the sort of uncertainty most people would feel upon being asked to divulge such personal information. Still, he seemed game, fumbling for the words to frame his thoughts.

"Well, I felt a little—isolated, I guess. The TURKs are tight-knit, and there were a few times I really felt like an outsider. Um, Elena's pretty when she blushes, and I thought I would have to talk to Yuffie to see if any of Reno's teasing had any basis in fact. Then I think I was envious of how close Reno and Tseng seemed. I thought about you, and how close we were and how far away it seems we are now. I'm pretty sure I'd decided I wanted to get back with—"

The blond chopped off suddenly, his eyes squeezing half shut, pain lines creasing into existence around them as tears welled. He went pale and clapped his hands to his temples, fingers bunching in his hair. He shook his head wildly, and a gurgling scream rose in his throat. Worried and confused, Sephiroth reached for him, trying to calm or restrain him, but Cloud flinched away from him.

Sephiroth carefully sat back, keeping an eye on his suffering—friend? Lover? Ex-fiancé?—hoping that would help Cloud to settle down. The blond, however, continued to cry out in pain, tossing his head as if struggling to free himself from something. Sephiroth realized he could hear a murmur around the blond and again leaned closer, trying to hear the words. He couldn't make out much, but he did hear 'puppet' and his name and he recognized the voice as Jenova's.

Suddenly, everything snapped into place. What had Cloud said? _"I thought about you, and how close we were and how far away it seems we are now. I'm pretty sure I'd decided I wanted to get back with—"_ With him? Was Jenova punishing him for daring to entertain the thought of getting back together?

Well, that just would not do. No way. Sephiroth wanted Cloud back way too much to let Jenova dissuade him. He grabbed Cloud by the shoulders and shook him slightly, until those pain-filled and desperate eyes met his.

"Finish the thought, Cloud. You wanted to get back with…?"

"…you…" Cloud whispered, a low whine of pain underlying the words. "Wanna be with you…like before…"

Sephiroth nodded decisively. "All right. Yes." He leaned forward to brush his lips gently over Cloud's, just a soft touch at first, but he'd waited too long to settle for that. He found himself pressing close and drinking the intoxicating taste of Cloud, exulting in the soft sounds he made in his throat and the way his soft lips returned the kiss.

Breaking away was difficult, and Cloud made a noise of protest, reaching for him, but Sephiroth gently but firmly separated them. He smiled, feeling a bubble of contentment rising in him as he watched Cloud's eyes slowly open. His pupils were dilated, concentrating the remarkable shade of his blue eyes into a thin ring that glowed as brightly as the filament of a light bulb. The pupil itself glowed green with the Mako trapped in Cloud's body, present in the fluid inside the eyeball, just as it was in the blood. (That fact meant that many SOLDIERs actually turned out to be night-blind because the Mako light drowned out the faint input the eye got in low-light conditions. Of course, some received so much enhancement in the cells at the back of the eye that their night vision was normal or better despite the Mako.)

Cloud blinked dazedly up at him, then frowned. "It stopped."

Sephiroth nodded. "It seems Jenova was trying to keep us apart, for some reason."

"Well, yeah," Reno drawled from the doorway—Sephiroth had once again completely forgotten him. "If I were that slimy piece of…anyway, I'd want to keep you two apart, too. Together, you're practically unstoppable, and since you've both got grudges against her…"

Cloud nodded. "Makes sense, I guess."

"Of course it does," Reno said, rolling his eyes over the fact that anyone could doubt him. "I'll just go tell everyone you're doing better, Cloud. You worried an awful lot of people, you know."

Cloud sighed and leaned his head against Sephiroth's shoulder as Reno left. "Man, I feel like a dragon stepped on my skull. Maybe chewed on it a little."

Sephiroth stroked the blond's spiky hair. "I imagine. She was working hard to overcome you."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a while, Sephiroth keeping up the slow stroking of Cloud's fine but recalcitrant hair. Cloud half-sat in his lap, sighing softly and relaxing under the touches. Finally, Cloud straightened a little.

"I guess I'd better go out there and let everyone see for themselves that I'm okay. And that 'His Evilness' hasn't done anything to me."

Sephiroth smirked. "At least, nothing you objected to."

Cloud laughed and nodded against his shoulder. They stayed for a few more moments, then started sorting out the tangle of limbs they'd managed to curl into. Cloud finally gained his feet and held out a hand to help Sephiroth to his. Sephiroth reached to take it…

And then the world exploded in a wall of white.

* * *

Cloud clapped his hands to his head—again—as Jenova's voice bellowed into his brain so loudly he almost forgot he wasn't actually hearing her. He only remembered when covering his ears had no impact on the terrible sound slicing through his skull. After a while, the shriek seemed to quiet somewhat. It didn't leave him completely, but he found he was able to function through it. Barely.

His first thought was something along the lines of _/What the f---/_,

The second was more the simple awareness that Sephiroth was about a bazillion times more sensitive to Jenova than he was.

He looked down. Sephiroth lay on the floor, his hands over his ears, his back arched, and his face twisted into a rictus of agony. Cloud tried to drop down beside him to help—though Holy knew how he could do so—but he wound up instead falling on top of the older man, because his limbs refused to cooperate. Once in physical contact with Sephiroth, Jenova's scream seemed to intensify, and he was again incapacitated. All he could do was cling to the larger form and wait for an end. He couldn't even tear enough of his awareness away from the cry to pray for one.

Finally, the cry let up a little, but all that did was quiet his head. His body still seemed quite out of his control. Every cell seemed on fire, and his hands fumbled with the fastenings of Sephiroth's coat without his direction. Meanwhile, Sephiroth was busily pulling at Cloud's shirt. He couldn't get it off with Cloud working at his jacket, so he settled for shoving the offending garment to his armpits with a frustrated grunt just as Cloud managed to jerk the heavy leather off Sephiroth's shoulders.

Then Sephiroth grabbed him around the waist, pulling their bare chests together, and Cloud couldn't help the groan of relief as the horrid burning abated. Not for long though. In mere minutes it was back, and worse than ever. Sephiroth jerked his gloves off, and Cloud used the opportunity to completely divest him of the jacket. When Sephiroth's arms again encircled him, he pulled his own gloves off with his teeth, and clasped his old lover around the shoulders. The greater skin contact helped, and again he had a little peace.

In the pause, his ears finally caught real sound again past the rushing of blood and the frantic thumping of his heart. He heard Sephiroth's voice chanting raggedly, "Reunion, Reunion, Reunion," like it was a prayer. It made Cloud's blood run cold against the burn that was again building in him.

He tried to ask Sephiroth about it, but what came out was, "Yes, Reunion, yes, yes, Reunion," his own chant. Sephiroth's eyes popped open at the utterance, and Cloud found himself quickly pinned to the ground by the larger man's greater weight.

"Reunion!" Sephiroth uttered, but this time it was an imperative, an order, and Cloud could feel his presence squirming into him. He cried out—the sensation was much like that of the Clone pushing into his mind and taking over his body, or like Jenova doing the same. It was the pain of a violation of his inner self. He could feel it like a blanket smothering his personality, leaving only Jenova behind. And the Jenova part of him reveled in it, pushing eagerly toward that violence, singing rapturously in response to that magic word.

**Reunion**.

It was all Cloud could do to resist that call, reaching for the part of Sephiroth that was still truly him, not just a piece of Jenova struggling to answer the Call. Sluggishly, Sephiroth responded; Cloud felt his horror as he realized he was trying to snuff Cloud's being, felt him draw slightly back from that precipice.

In the end, that was all either of them could do. Sephiroth tried not to kill him, and Cloud tried not to be killed, and together they fought the imperative to join their straining bodies together, staving off their Reunion.

They might have lain there for minutes or hours, but it felt like forever before the burn died to a manageable level, and Jenova's voice quieted. Cloud squirmed under Sephiroth, feeling his muscles complain about how tightly they had clenched to lock their two bodies together. He could feel blood flowing from Sephiroth's back where he'd jammed his nails through the skin. His ribs ached from the constrictor-like pressure Sephiroth had applied—indeed, was still applying—to hold him close.

Sephiroth was still chanting quietly, and Cloud realized that he still hadn't come out of the near-mindless trance induced by such a powerful Call to Reunion. It might be a while yet, so he carefully pulled his fingertips from Sephiroth's back and tried to get as comfortable as he could within the crushing embrace.

Voices down the hall caught his attention.

"…told you already. I don't know what it was, but the Planet cried out very loudly. It's stopped now, but the Planet still feels…upset, frightened, angry. Tseng's putting Taka to bed, but I don't think anyone with a sensitivity to the Planet is going to be sleeping for a while yet."

That was obviously Reno, and he didn't sound so good. More like he had a headache to rival Cloud's and was jumping at shadows.

"I heard something, as well." That was Vincent, sounding pensive as usual, with an undercurrent of concern. "I could not say for sure what it was, though I have never been sensitive enough to hear the Planet before, just echoes in Mako or Materia."

Reno, sounding sour and like he was rolling his eyes. "Believe me. That cry was loud enough to make the ears ring. Anyone with the slightest sensitivity heard it, or at least knew something was wrong, even if they can't put a finger on it. But the Planet's not making much sense right now—I can't figure out what's wrong."

"I believe I will return to Cosmo Canyon," came Red XIII's gravelly voice. "I understand that many of our Planet-monitoring instruments were damaged during Meteor, but we still have the best chance of anyone to discover what happened—at least until the Planet calms enough for the Cetra to work it out."

"I will accompany you. I am certain we can convince Cid to take us now that the _Highwind_ is again functional. Assuming you have no objections."

"No, not at all. Speed might well be essential." That last was Reeve's voice.

Elena's followed soon after. "Shall I tell Yuffie? Generally, the people of Wutai pay more attention to the Planet, so it is possible they know something. And even if not, we are working closely with Godo and the leadership of Wutai."

"Yes, tell her. Better still, send messengers to Godo as well. We definitely need to maintain our relationship with Wutai. Especially since, even as small as the Wutaian Army is, they could probably flatten what little we've got at any given post, except possibly the SOLDIER garrisons here and in Junon. And we sure as hell don't want things to come to that."

"Do you hear that?" Vincent asked abruptly. Cloud suddenly recalled how sensitive the ex-TURK's hearing was, and that he could probably hear Sephiroth's muttering even over conversation. So he decided to speak to him.

"Hey, um, don't freak out, but I could use a hand here," he muttered quietly enough for only Vincent's and maybe Red's ears to catch.

"Cloud and Sephiroth. They may require assistance," Vincent stated calmly. Then Cloud clearly heard the half musical clicks of his metal-shod friend's footsteps increase pace to an easy lope, the skitter of claws telling him Red had also picked up his pace. Moments later, the standard shoe-wearing people also sped up.

Funnily enough, Sephiroth finally began to calm, his grip loosening slightly and his muttering tapering off. Finally he craned his neck far enough back that he could focus somewhat hazily on Cloud's face.

"C—" He seemed to choke awkwardly on the name, frowning in consternation.

Cloud smiled slightly, tenderly stroking a stray lock of hair back out of Sephiroth's pale face. "Hey. You okay?"

Sephiroth's frown only deepened. "Reunion?"

Evidently he wasn't as recovered as Cloud had thought.

"Shhh, baby. No Reunion here. No Jenova."

Sephiroth just grunted and pressed his face into the crook of Cloud's neck. The slow burn of Cloud's Jenova cells longing to join with those in Sephiroth was still perceptible, so between them, the flutter of eyelashes, and the warm puff of breath on the delicate skin of his throat, Cloud squirmed. Suddenly, Sephiroth was lifted off him to land with a thump several feet away. Tifa crouched beside Cloud, gazing down with concern.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" She prodded at his exposed midsection. "Holy, look at those bruises. Do you need a potion?" Then, with a sideways glance at the general, she reluctantly added, "Does he—he does look like he's bleeding…"

Cloud shook his head. "I'm fine." He could hear the vague murmur of voices again, and the subtle, banked fire of Jenova in his flesh had risen up to the blaze of a hundred candles under his skin, but he really was essentially fine. He absently rubbed his hands over his arms, checking that he wasn't actually burning.

He would have continued to reassure her, but Sephiroth had staggered to his feet, swaying side-to-side. "Reunion…Reunion!" he chanted, and Cloud realized that their separation had increased Sephiroth's susceptibility, too. He staggered to his own feet, watching in horror as Sephiroth oriented himself to face north, moaning that horrible word all the while. The white-haired man walked north until he encountered the wall, then he pressed his bare hands flat against it, straining at the wall and keening.

Ignoring the shocked and uneasy expressions around him, Cloud managed to pick his way coltishly across the room, managing to avoid Tifa's grasp as she reached out to hold him back. He didn't bother to push his shirt down, and when he got to Sephiroth, he enveloped him in a firm embrace, pulling him gently from the wall and against his bare skin. Sephiroth keened one last time, then turned in his grasp so he could wrap his arms around him in turn. They sank to the floor, Sephiroth shivering and trying to get as close to Cloud as he could.

"Reunion?" he asked plaintively.

Cloud petted his hair. "Just me, Sephiroth. Just me. But I'm here now."

Sephiroth put his head down on his shoulder, nodding unhappily, but not attempting to take him over again. Cloud stroked over his hair and sleekly muscled back and shoulders, ignoring the blood—the wounds Cloud had dug with his own fingers had already sealed, anyway.

Cloud looked up to see Tifa staring in horror at them, looks of concern on the faces of the others present—all those who had previously spoken, plus Rude.

"Uh, hey."

"Cloud…" Red began hesitantly. "What is going on here?"

Cloud shrugged a little, careful not to disturb Sephiroth, who seemed to have drifted into a light doze. "Jenova Called really, **really** loudly. She's…still Calling. Sephiroth's just more effected by it than I am. I think…I think being together helps. It sort of appeases the Jenova in us. And right now he's mostly Sephiroth, so he's not trying to actually create a Reunion with me, anymore."

"He tried!" Tifa exclaimed.

"The Jenova in him tried. And to be honest, the Jenova in me tried to respond. Fortunately, we got that under control quickly enough. Still, I guess we're going to be in each other's space for a while."

"What purpose could Jenova have for Calling so loudly?" Vincent asked. His red eyes were dim with concern. He was probably wondering if he had been hearing Jenova's call or if it had been the Planet, as well as worrying about the reasons for the Call.

Cloud shrugged—his connection to Jenova wasn't clear enough for him to know the why, just that she'd done it, and he'd felt an almost overwhelming compulsion to dissolve his being into Sephiroth.

Against his shoulder, though, Sephiroth stirred. "…Calling others."

"What others?" Reeve asked. "All the other Clones are dead; there's only you and Cloud left. Well, and whatever avatars she's made for herself since."

"Not here. Out there. The others like her," Sephiroth muttered. He seemed to be getting a little more lucid, peering through his thick eyelashes into Cloud's face. "Find an enemy you can't beat yourself, what do you do?"

Cloud's veins turned to ice. "You call reinforcements. Oh, Holy, we never thought about where she came from, did we? But just like Aeris wasn't the only Cetra, maybe Jenova's not the only…whatever she is. What if there are more?"

"There are. Or she thinks so," Sephiroth said, slowly sitting up, though he kept close to Cloud, careful not to let go of him. "And there were…echoes, from far away. I think she may be right."

Reeve's face was so pale he looked like he was going to faint. Reno matter-of-factly turned toward a corner and emptied his stomach in a single, spasmodic heave. The smell turned Cloud's stomach, too, though he just clung grimly to Sephiroth and tried not to envision hundreds, thousands, or millions of Jenovas out there, and now headed their way, answering the Call.

Tifa looked grim, her beautiful features clouded. "What does this mean for us? Or for the Planet? Jenova drove the Cetra to the brink of extinction all by herself a thousand years ago, and she interferes with the Planet's attempts to heal itself to this day. What do we do if more like her show up?"

"We fight and probably die," Sephiroth said solemnly. "Or we give up and die anyway. If Jenova and her kind are going to devour the world, I for one intend to stick sideways on the way down."

Cloud smacked Sephiroth lightly on the shoulder. "That's enough gloom and doom out of you. Look on the bright side—we've been researching Jenova for months now, and if we can find her, we have a specimen on which to practice on the Planet right now. We have every opportunity to prepare ourselves for what's coming."

"Then let's get to it!" Elena said. She clapped her hands together, her face a mask of determination. Red XIII was shaking his head though.

"If these others are on other worlds, it may take them many years to get here. The nearest stars to us are only a couple light years away, but the nearest with a planet we know about is almost five light years away, and the planet doesn't seem habitable. Add to that the fact that these others probably cannot travel at the speed of light, and it may take decades for them to get here, even if there is a habitable planet close by. All our preparations may be for nothing if it will be our children who fight them." (A.N. The nearest known exoplanet to Earth is in orbit around Epsilon Eridani, a little over ten light years away. I have changed things for Gaia—the Planet—because it's clearly not Earth.)

"Still, we must try," Vincent murmured.

"You all forget," Sephiroth said, shaking his head slowly and massaging a temple. "I heard their responses in real time. Even if they were on another world in this system, there should be several minutes or hours of lag time—unless they can, with their cries, at least, exceed the speed of light. Even if they haven't managed to find a way to move themselves that quickly, Jenova could simply keep them informed on whatever we do to counter her."

Everyone fell silent. Cloud's specialty was in the Mako sciences, not in planetary science or astronomy, so his head was beginning to swim a little. Still…

"Faster than light, you said?"

Red nodded. "As far as anyone has ever been able to demonstrate, the speed of light should be the upper limit of how fast anything can travel. There are theories of how to get something to move faster, usually involving alternate spaces or space-time folding, but nothing has been proven."

Cloud blinked. "That's not right. I don't know anything about this space-time folding stuff, but I do know Mako. The Lifestream is real-time, all the time. In fact, I think there was a program to monitor the Lifestreams of other worlds in our system a while back. Oh, and something about the Lifestream of our sun, though I never heard if either of those programs got anywhere."

Elena looked at Reeve. "We have to find those programs. I don't care how or why Lifestream can break the speed of light, but if Jenova also has that power, then the Lifestream may be our only hope to match her."

Reeve nodded. "Get on it. Red." The great cat looked up at him, visibly shivering with fear, but his face was set with resolve. "I can think of no place better than Cosmo Canyon to have performed those experiments, so some of the records may still be there. And even if they aren't, Bugenhagen seemed like the type who might have been playing with those theories on his own. Just think about his planet model and that huge telescope—you don't need a telescope to observe this Planet, only distant objects."

Red nodded, seeming to relax a little. "You're right. Grandfather would have been interested in the Lifestreams of other worlds. I will look into it."

"This changes things," Reeve said. "Vincent, get Cid to take Red to the Canyon, and see if you can get him to take messages to Wutai. Red, while you're there, please get together as many Lifestream-monitoring devices as you can. With all the reactors being decommissioned, we should have plenty of spare Mako-sensitive parts—they may need recalibration, but they should help make what you've got stretch. Then, Reno, if you're up to it, I'd like you to set up some LMDs at Mideel and the Ancient Capital—the Crater, too, if it's safe enough to get into."

"I will help with that," Vincent said. "I will be only so much help in Cosmo Canyon, but Cid and the _Highwind_ will be useful getting our Lifestream-monitoring sensor net in place—I assume you are trying to put in place a full sensor net?"

"As near as we can manage, anyway."

"You'll want to put sensors here in Midgar, too," Reno chimed. Reeve crooked a brow, and the TURK rolled his eyes. "Hey, there's a reason they built eight reactors here—the Lifestream is very close to the surface and easily drawn upon."

"Thus, easily monitored," Cloud said. "In that case, we could just recalibrate all the sensors in existing reactors—we wouldn't even have to tear them out or modify them to get some idea what's going on. Maybe put a couple Mako-science guys out there to look at the visible signs of Lifestream activity—rock coloration, Mako fountaining, biodiversity, indicator species, that sort of thing."

"That would fill in a lot of holes in our prospective sensor net," Reeve mused. Then he nodded decisively. "Alright, we'll do it. Cloud, I'll speak to Colonel Andrews and get him to let me have you for those recalibrations. Be thinking of anyone you need to help, and anyone we can spare in the field who's competent to read those sensors and make those observations—people who won't panic when we tell them what's going on. Then I want you and Sephiroth," he looked at the still pale SOLDIER general, but seemed confident despite Sephiroth's obviously poor current condition. "Both of you will be working overtime on Project Pink."

Sephiroth managed a wan smile. "Hate to tell you this, Reeve, but everyone works overtime on Project Pink."

Reeve laughed. "I had seen some reports to that effect, yes. Some of the guys trying to figure out compensation for everyone complain every couple weeks that you people work too hard. Even on clean-up duty." He sobered. "Speaking of which, as of now, you're suspended from that duty. You'll still take your week off, but you'll spend it—and every other spare moment—in training. That's both of you. If it comes down to a fight, we'll need both of you in top fighting trim. Which means you, Sephiroth, get to have Masamune back, as soon as Cloud can put it in your hands."

Cloud grinned, feeling joy for Sephiroth, seeing the man's green eyes were wide and just a little shiny. It was a sign of the severity of the situation that even Tifa put up no resistance to the suggestion.

Sephiroth smiled sincerely. "Thank you for trusting me, Reeve." He grew serious. "I swear I won't betray that trust." The gleam of fanaticism in Sephiroth's eyes didn't bother Cloud—he knew the other man could be a little crazy about promises, but the fact he'd made one meant that, short of going mad again, he would hold to it. It was practically an oath of fealty.

Poor Reeve had no idea what he'd gotten himself into.

Still the executive seemed to have some idea, smiling a little nervously, but seemingly sincerely. "Thanks for that. Now, Elena, you seem to have some sort of magic with Yuffie—see if you can get any information out of her on sources of Materia. Any Materia will do, but especially any that can be used to protect the populace or that are especially good against Jenova's monsters. Natural Mako fountains can also be good places to add to our net, once we have enough sensors, so make sure you record all those locations. I want everyone to submit initial briefings on their responsibilities and how they intend to approach them to Elena as soon as you can. Then Elena, and Yuffie, if she'll help, please brief Lord Godo—this affects the whole Planet, not just the bits that were run by Shinra.

"Anyone else who has ideas, run them past me. In the meantime, let's try to step up the pace of the reconstruction efforts. We need to get at least part of Midgar inhabitable and defensible again as soon as we possibly can. This will also involve a lot of monster extermination. Try to train anybody able-bodied enough to fight in the basics—Materia, Limits, what-have-you. Go in groups, and if you get in too deep, pull back and call SOLDIER for support."

Tifa nodded. "I know some people who might be interested, or at least know someone else who might be. I'll get on it as soon as I get back to Sector Seven."

Cloud also spoke up. "I know a couple guys in SOLDIER and the Regulars who would probably be happy to help out—especially if you've gotten the Seventh Heaven back up and running. I'll send them your way ASAP. Oh, and don't mind Art—she'll ogle, but she's a gentlewoman and can take a hint."

Tifa blinked at him. "That sounds…unsettling, but I'll keep it in mind."

Reno leered and nudged Rude lightly in the ribs. "Sounds like our 'Lena's kinda girl, ne?"

Elena turned bright pink—and she really was pretty when she blushed—then stuck her nose up in the air. "I'm not in the market, thanks. Besides, Artemis is an ex—our schedules were so crazy we barely saw each other, so we split. But she really will back off if you say so." She smiled beatifically at Tifa, whose eyes had gone wide—evidently, she was at least as blindsided by that revelation about Elena as Cloud had been. Still, the barkeep offered a small smile.

"Well, I guess that's okay then. Really not my cuppa."

Reno elbowed Rude again. "Hey, man, that's your chance!"

Rude glared, then pushed his sunglasses more firmly up his nose like armor. His dark skin didn't show it well, but he seemed to be blushing, too. Tifa turned slowly red, too, and the TURK and the barkeep stared at each other for a long moment.

"What is this, a dating service?" Reeve asked, joking, but still bringing everyone back to the present situation. The humor drained out of the room as quickly as it had come. The thought of what even one more Jenova could do would do that—especially since this crowd was full of people with all too clear a picture of what Jenova was capable of.

Reeve sighed and shook his head. "Well, Red, Vincent, and anyone heading elsewhere right away probably ought to get going. I guess the rest of us should go home, get some sleep. It'll probably be the last chance we get for a good night's rest for a while."

"You have got to be kidding me," Sephiroth muttered quietly, then spoke up. "No offense, but I don't think anyone's going to have good sleep for a while."

Reeve sighed. "You're probably right, but we still have to try. Cloud." Cloud sat up a little straighter. "You guys going to be okay getting home, or should I call you an escort?"

He sighed. "I'd really rather not, but I guess you should call that escort. Who knows what the monsters in the city are like right now—I would guess between Jenova and the Planet screaming at the tops of their 'voices,' it's probably like someone kicked an anthill out there. And I don't think I could take the ants if I had a can of bug spray and a flyswatter."

Reeve nodded. "Sit tight, then, and I'll send out a courier. Everyone else, good night."

* * *

Hi, again!

So, here we go! And you all thought this was a romance. $scoffs$ Well, I guess there was some of that in here, too… Next part, expect some more sugary goodness, the combined horror of Cloud and Sephiroth's dirty brains, and some action. (Not that type. Perverts. grin)

Well, got a job offer, moved **again** (grumble, grumble), finally got internet back (yay!), and start work tomorrow (yay?). Oh, and also played and beat Xenosaga Episode III. GREAT game, and a good conclusion to the story (albeit sad), and it definitely fixed Episode II's mistakes. Thank God. It also felt a lot like Xenogears in places, which was definitely welcome. So if you haven't picked it up, go do so **now**, so that if I actually settle on a fic idea, you can follow along. $grin$ Though of course AYCK is my primary project, and will be until its completion (projected for 2020 with a cost of $1.2 billion).

Okay, that's all I have today! Please review!


	16. Falling Back Into Old Habits

Hi, everyone (Happy Halloween, Blessed Samhain)!

Well, here we are! Another chapter of _All You Can Know_. Try not to let the combination of Halloween candy and the first half of this fic rot your teeth, ne?

Thanks as usual to my lovely beta, Allanon, for his hard work. Thanks also to all who reviewed last chapter. (I'm writing this note between trick-or-treaters, so sorry if it's a little rushed…)

Anyway, please enjoy!

* * *

Cloud stretched, feeling a deep ache in every extremity. He stopped short when one flailing hand encountered a face. He cracked an eyelid, and was relieved when Sephiroth only snorted softly and turned on his other side, clutching a pillow like a small child with his favorite stuffed mog. It was kind of cute, and never failed to bring a smile to Cloud's face when he witnessed Sephiroth's cuddle reflex in action. It saddened him to think of Sephiroth as a child—he probably never had a stuffed mog. He wondered just how badly the other man would make him suffer if he brought him a toy mog sometime. Maybe wrap it up all nicely and present it like a serious present. 

Cloud snickered softly as he envisioned Sephiroth—utterly confused, of course—plucking at a fluffy little mog in a box with a bunch of tissue paper. On second thought, maybe he should get a big one so Sephiroth couldn't just stash it on a bookshelf somewhere out of sight.

Grinning, Cloud rolled out of bed, running a hand through his hair. He grimaced as his hand got stuck in a tangle—shorter hair had been so much easier to maintain. He also frowned at the boots he still wore. He probably ought to go somewhere else to take them off, lest he fumigate Sephiroth's room. But he couldn't possibly sneak out of the room with them on. Ugh, he hated facing dilemmas so early in the morning.

His mood abruptly dropped as he recalled he had bigger things to worry about than his stinky feet. He jerked the boots off viciously, but carefully set each one down as it came off, stuffing the socks inside to contain the stink. He really didn't want to wake Sephiroth. Generally, Sephiroth was a bear when his sleep was interrupted. If he woke up on his own at three in the morning, he was fine, but if some hapless soul woke him for anything other than sex at the same hour of morning… Well, he'd better be ready to run or direct the irate general at a clear enemy.

Cloud scooped up the offending—and offensive—footwear, and padded quietly out of the room. He dumped his boots in the entryway to hopefully air out a little, then grabbed a clean set of Zack's old clothes from his own room—they'd been migrating, so he no longer had to go into Zack's room to find clothes. Finally, he snatched up a towel and headed for the shower. Whoever designed the water heating system around here was a saint. Even with minimal power, the water still came as hot as he could wish it. Sometimes there wasn't a heck of a lot of water pressure, but it was nice and hot, anyway. Considering the gunk SOLDIERs routinely returned home covered in, it was probably a necessity, anyway.

Cloud stood under the spray for a long time, letting the heat and wet draw out the worst of his aches. He rubbed at his twinging ribs, shaking his head at how hard Sephiroth had to have squeezed for them to still be bothering him this much the next day. He sighed and turned to reach for the soap to finally be clean—

—And jumped as he caught sight of Sephiroth standing in the doorway. It wasn't like Sephiroth had never seen him naked before—pretty much the opposite—but Cloud found himself coloring anyway. Sephiroth seemed almost equally uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I—" the older man cut himself off, scowling. He seemed lost for words.

Cloud found that comforting. As poised as he could be in public, Sephiroth was just a man like any other, awkward in this new-old relationship and embarrassed to have been caught watching. Cloud pushed aside the glass shower door—not that it was much of an obstacle to begin with, being completely clear—and smiled hesitantly at Sephiroth.

"If you want, you can join me." Sephiroth's eyes lit up, and Cloud laughed. "Man, you will do anything to get your hands on me, won't you?"

Sephiroth smiled in return, shedding his clothes by the door and reflexively folding them. "Can you blame me? It's been subjectively longer for you than for me, but I'm still just about dying for any scrap you can give me."

Cloud stepped aside as the taller man pushed into the cubicle. The shower was nice and large, but Sephiroth always seemed to fill every spare centimeter. Maybe it was his height, or the muscled breadth of his shoulders. Maybe it was all that fair skin, shining with the wet, or his snowy hair darkened to pewter grey. Whatever it was, it never seemed like there was much room to spare whenever the two of them were together in the shower. It always felt close, intimate like even sleeping together wasn't.

Cloud sighed softly as Sephiroth ran a hand slowly up his back, kneading lightly at the muscles along the way. When both large hands settled on his shoulders, long fingers kneading them while the thumbs dug at the knots on either side of his spine, Cloud couldn't stifle the moan that escaped him. Even the barely perceptible burn of Jenova couldn't make him worry in the face of that bliss.

"I would let you do that forever," he groaned, arching into the touch.

Sephiroth's chuckle echoed weirdly off the tiles, the warmth of his breath rivaling that of the steaming water. "No, by that point, you'd have melted into a puddle of goo and run down the drain."

Cloud wrinkled his nose. "Eew, Midgar sewers."

"You've had occasion to experience them personally, then?"

Cloud laughed. "Unfortunately. Someday I'll have to tell you about Aeris and me going to rescue Tifa from Don Corneo's mansion."

"Don Corneo? The slum pimp?" Sephiroth's hands left for a moment and came back soapy. "I thought he never let men into his mansion, except for his trusted security people."

Cloud flushed. "Yeah, well… Now that I think of it, I never did manage to burn that dress. I thought about giving it back to the tailor, but I somehow doubt there's a lot of demand for men's dresses right now." Sephiroth was silent for a long time, his hands stalled on Cloud's back. "Hey, you okay back there?"

"I'm just…trying to imagine you in a dress. And failing, I might add."

"Yeah, well, trust me you're not as shocked as Corneo was. Bastard tried to talk me into a kiss. Yuck."

Sephiroth hmmed. "No, still can't see it."

Cloud turned under his hands, enjoying the wet slide of Sephiroth's fingers over his collarbones. He smirked up at Sephiroth, watching green eyes widen. "Maybe, if you like, I'll show you the thing before I burn it."

Sephiroth laughed sharply and bent to place a peck on Cloud's cheek before moving on to nibble at an earlobe. "What if I like your dress?" he purred.

Cloud shivered as Sephiroth's arms went around him octopus style. "You won't. It was the dressmaker's first try making one for a man—it really doesn't flatter me at all."

A soft hum was Sephiroth's only response as he clearly became distracted from the conversation. Cloud was feeling pretty distracted himself, clutching at Sephiroth's broad back for support as the taller man began trailing sucking kisses down his throat. Sephiroth had been able to play his body like a concert pianist with his favorite piano right from the first time he'd touched him, and practice had only increased his skill. And as Sephiroth had said, it had been a long time.

It was only by a supreme act of will that he was able to push at Sephiroth's chest and gasp a distinctly half-hearted 'no.' Sephiroth lingered a moment longer, as if unable to tear himself away, but he did stop. His eyes were concerned when he looked up.

"What's wrong?"

Cloud shook his head in frustration. "It's not anything wrong, it's just… We got back together **yesterday**, Seph. It just feels too fast." Cloud rolled his eyes at himself. "Hell of a thing, considering the first time you so much as hinted an interest, I totally jumped into bed with you. But it just feels…"

"Too fast," Sephiroth completed when Cloud trailed off. The green-eyed SOLDIER sighed, but nodded. "I understand. It has been too long for you to just pick up again—that's what the last three months have been about, after all." He was trying hard to conceal his disappointment, and it broke Cloud's heart. He placed a hand on the other man's cheek, turning his downcast face to him.

"Please don't feel badly. It's not that I don't want you—I do, and that should be pretty obvious." Pressed as closely together as they were, yes, it was pretty obvious. "I just want it to be right between us again, and right now I just don't feel right. I wish we could just take a few months to work on repairing…this." He indicated the two of them with one hand before letting it drop to clasp Sephiroth's hip, fingers idly tracing the scar in the other man's side where even his ability to heal had been unable to yet erase the memory of Nibelheim carved into his flesh.

"But we can't. We've got to save the Planet first and pay back that bitch, Jenova. I'm sorry."

Sephiroth shook his head. "No. If you don't feel like it, that's all the explanation I need from you. I wish," and the pale-haired man smiled wistfully. "I wish you were as okay with this as I am. But I really do understand, I think. And we do need to get rid of her, and defend the Planet against the Others." Somehow, overnight, that word had gained a capital 'o.' Sephiroth smiled. "Besides, adversity has always seemed to work to bring us together, right? We can just feel our way into this."

Cloud leaned his head against Sephiroth's chest, sighing deeply. "Thanks, Seph."

"No problem. Besides, we're making progress. That's twice in one conversation you've called me 'Seph.' You haven't called me that to my face since I came back."

Cloud smiled a little. "You're right. I guess I'm finally relaxing a little."

Sephiroth smiled back and hefted the soap again, determinedly. "Alright. If I don't get to have any real fun, I at least demand the opportunity to run my hands all over you and drive you as mad with lust as you're driving me."

Cloud laughed and leaned casually against the cool tile of the shower wall, spreading his hands wide. "Do your worst. Just remember that turnabout is fair play."

Sephiroth smirked. "I'll keep that in mind," he said in such a sultry tone of voice it made the steamy shower seem like a stretch of tundra by comparison.

A long time later, they finally emerged, fingertips and toes pruning and faces a bit flushed. Cloud pulled on the plain blue jeans he had selected and pulled his hair back in a quick ponytail—the beating of the shower had removed most of the tangles, and the rest he didn't care about. Then he leaned a hip against the counter to watch Sephiroth begin his much more lengthy preparations for the day.

Contrary to popular belief, Sephiroth did in fact own clothing that wasn't leather. He liked leather because of the additional armor it provided, and he always wore leather boots, not to mention his near-constant companion, his coat. Leather gloves were typical, too. Today, however, Sephiroth had chosen a pair of black jeans washed so often they were charcoal grey. He also had a button-down shirt hanging on the hook on the door, a pale green that almost matched his eyes. Sephiroth, like Cloud, pulled on his pants, and then elected to tackle his hair.

Cloud was always mesmerized by the sight of Sephiroth tending to his hair. Watching the grey strands lighten to white as they dried, slipping like liquid over Sephiroth's deft fingers and sweeping comb, the curve of his graceful neck when he pulled the silky mass over one shoulder to tend to the ends… Cloud heaved a clearly besotted sigh, and shrugged unapologetically when Sephiroth's amused gaze swept up to him in the mirror.

"If we had more time," the older man said. "I'd let you comb it."

Cloud smiled. "That obvious, huh?"

Sephiroth smiled. "You do seem to have a fixation. It makes me feel…beautiful, I guess, so I don't really mind. Except when you are at your most intent to use it as reins during sex and I would like your hands elsewhere."

Cloud flushed. "I do not use your hair like reins!"

"Yes, you do."

"Do not."

"Do so." Sephiroth turned his head and stuck out his tongue playfully at Cloud, who then succumbed to the temptation to take that tongue in a deep kiss.

By the time they broke apart, Sephiroth had utterly forgotten his hair and dropped the comb to the floor. Cloud's hands were—predictably—entangled in that beautiful mane. Sephiroth blinked at him hazily, still clearly reliving the kiss, and Cloud knew he wore a dopey grin.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked. Sephiroth's eyes widened, the fog in them vanishing as if it had never been.

"I know you did. I had my doubts about now, but… I'm glad they were misplaced."

Cloud twirled a bit of white hair around his fingers. "That'll teach you to doubt me," he said mildly, then patted Sephiroth's chest. "C'mon. We better go grab mess. I have to hunt down the Colonel to be sure Reeve's orders went through, but I guess you'll just go to work like usual."

Sephiroth sighed. "You're right, I suppose."

Cloud smirked and handed Sephiroth the hanger with his shirt on it. "Of course I am."

Sephiroth stood, buttoning up all those buttons and doing one last comb-through, while Cloud yanked on his t-shirt—white, reading 'sit down and shut up' in big, bold lettering. Possibly not the best thing in which to face one's commanding officer, but almost all of Zack's shirts had such slogans and sayings on them, and Cloud found they appealed to him even more these days than they had before everything.

Sephiroth disappeared into his room to find a pair of sturdy ankle boots and a pair of light gloves—not to mention the ever-present jacket. Cloud used to wonder if he was simply cold all the time, but no, he really was just paranoid enough to want the protection of the leather and the shoulder armor with him all the time.

Not that Cloud could talk, since he always wore his bangles, and dragged his knife with him everywhere, even to bed. At least he'd become able to part with it in the shower, and could put it on the night table. Bedroom acrobatics were just a little more hazardous with sharp objects stashed somewhere in the sheets.

Cloud, meanwhile, grabbed himself a pair of gloves, too, and pulled on his new pair of socks. He stuffed his feet into his boots again, then began arranging the belt and straps used to secure Ultima Weapon to his person. Sephiroth drifted out to watch, but he had the distinct air of a small child bouncing up and down at his mother's side in the store, hoping for a new toy. Cloud really had to get him that mog.

Finally, Cloud flipped Ultima Weapon to his back, and reached to carefully lift Masamune from its place on the wall rack. Sephiroth's excitement level clearly kicked up another notch. Cloud handed it solemnly to the other man, who took it eagerly, his hands immediately rubbing up and down the length of the sheathed weapon, as if checking for damage—or reassuring himself it was real.

Cloud smiled. "It's about time, too," he said. Sephiroth said nothing, quickly whipping his own assortment of belts from its hook and getting Masamune comfortably placed on his back. Once there, he paced a circuit of the room to be sure it settled correctly, then gifted Cloud with a brilliant smile.

"We should go by the gym today after work. 'Every spare moment,' he said. I feel so out of practice I don't know if I can wait any longer than until tonight."

Cloud laughed. "Yeah, okay. We'll go practice tonight once we get off."

Sephiroth's eyebrow crawled slowly toward his hairline and Cloud choked. "No! Not like that! Pervert!"

Sephiroth laughed, too. "Sorry. It's the waiting. I hope you realize that, when we do get around to it, neither of us will have energy to leave the bed the next day, right?"

Cloud blushed. "Let's just go get breakfast. I didn't eat anything last night." Sephiroth remained pointedly silent and Cloud blushed even more brightly.

"Don't say anything!"

* * *

Cloud flexed his hands in his gloves, wincing at the ache in his knuckles. He'd spent all day hunched over a computer, furiously scribbling notes, or painstakingly making fine adjustments to a Mako sensor he was going to use as a template, for the time being. This was writer's cramp with teeth. He also had a headache, and his eyes were practically crossing from the strain—it felt weird to be focusing on something more than a half meter away. 

Still, he was even more relieved to be done for the day. He'd put in a good twelve hours, and he was confident the team coming in would be able to pick up where he left off and get those sensors operational. All of which meant he could leave for Project Pink starting the next morning with a clear conscience. Of course, he was really rather dreading it—he understood all too well how Sephiroth could have gone mad so easily upon finding out what had been done to him. Jenova's influence had merely exacerbated the trauma.

The truth was, Cloud had absolutely no desire to know what was done to him. He remembered a little, though most of his time with Hojo was recalled only in snatches of misery. Still, he personally knew enough about using Mako to induce changes in a specimen that he could make a couple of guesses, and he really didn't want confirmation of his suspicions. Anything he didn't know, he didn't want to. The thought made his skin crawl.

He shoved the anxiety aside, for now. He would face it when he had to, and no sooner. In the meantime, Sephiroth had sent him a message as to what time they could meet at the gym, and here Cloud was, standing outside. The place was mostly quiet, it being a little on the late side for most people who kept a reasonable schedule. It was about sunset, and most people tried to head home while there was still light. Of course, all of that would soon change with the threat of the Others, when people started working as late as they had to, monsters and the hazards of the ruined city be damned.

It was surreal watching everyone going on about their normal business today, when he knew everything had changed. But it took time to move a system as large as that rebuilding Midgar—the world, in fact—from the mentality of resurrecting their lives from the debris, to working to combat an active threat to their survival. Even the majority of SOLDIER was still unaware, judging by the horrified looks on peoples faces when Sephiroth had entered the mess with Masamune on his back. Tomorrow, Cloud figured most of that horror would be gone, replaced by nervous glances toward the sky. Reflections of Meteor. Why did disaster always come from above, anyway?

For now, though, the gym was mostly deserted, which was ideal for the two of them. Most SOLDIER weapons were large enough to warrant extra space, but Ultima Weapon was larger and more dangerous than most. Further, there was always the matter of Masamune's tremendous length to consider. Sephiroth's blade was long and unwieldy even given the preponderance of gigantic weapons in SOLDIER—though lighter, being thin, rather than the bastard spawn of a sword, a club, and a shield like most SOLDIER swords were. Cloud and Sephiroth were also stronger, faster, and more agile than most run-of-the-mill SOLDIER troopers were, so they would require every inch of space they could get to have a real practice session.

Finally stepping into the gym, Cloud spotted Sephiroth right away, moving in the careful movements of a training form, clearly just trying to regain his sense of the weapon. Cloud watched for a little while, feeling a little thrill as Sephiroth began to speed up, moving with increasing speed, precision, and fluidity.

As long as Masamune was, it was limited in the strikes it could make, since any strike coming from below would likely result in it plowing into the ground. Fortunately, the gym had high ceilings so strikes from above were possible, but there were some battlefields in which Sephiroth would never be able even to draw the blade. In those circumstances, the man used his physical size and strength and a variety of martial arts to fight, and Cloud was not surprised to see him working them into his training pattern. To compensate for his sword's weakness below, many of the hand-to-hand strikes were low and vicious enough to make Cloud wince—that imaginary opponent was never siring offspring.

Another interesting thing about Masamune was that, because of its length, on fast strikes its tip routinely broke the sound barrier, much as the tip of a whip would, resulting in a pop of compressed air. As the frequency of these sharp cracks increased, Cloud's smile simply grew. Three months without practice, plus five years in semi-conscious stasis, and Sephiroth definitely still had it.

Cloud's sword was out in front of him and deflecting the blow before he even consciously realized the other man had launched a sneak attack. Sephiroth smiled wickedly at him.

"You were taking so long, I thought I'd help you get into the swing of things."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Sure, out of the goodness of your heart."

"Gotta make amends somehow, right?"

Cloud laughed. "Right. Because surprise attacks on your boyfriend are the best way to make up for burning his hometown." Sephiroth's face clouded, and Cloud bit his lip. "I didn't mean it like that. Seriously. Besides, it wasn't a complete surprise—it's exactly the sort of thing you would do." He lowered his sword and Sephiroth did the same.

"Okay, rules," Cloud said and began picking Materia out of his bangles, placing them in a little pouch attached to his belt. "No magic. Holy knows we don't need to destroy the gym, and the two of us are enough to do that even without magic. We'll refrain from it just to be safe.

"Rule two—don't do any long-term damage or anything that requires more than a cure spell to fix. We can't exactly call an ambulance. I have a Restore—" he indicated the bag of Materia which he was just setting aside in a little cubby intended for personal effects. "—but let's try not to need it, okay?"

Sephiroth nodded, handing Cloud his Materia. "Reasonable. Anything else?"

Cloud shook his head. "Nope, aside from that, anything goes."

"Great!" Sephiroth exclaimed and kicked Cloud hard in the gut, shoving him out into Masamune's optimum range. Cloud had been expecting the attack, though, and immediately rolled sideways and closer to the other man, bringing Ultima Weapon across in a chop at Sephiroth's midsection. The larger man jumped backward, a reflex usually trained out of most fighters, but one Sephiroth maintained since extra range gave him the advantage over basically anyone he came face-to-face against.

Unfortunately, this time he was dancing to Cloud's tune. He jumped back into a rack of training equipment, just as Cloud had hoped he would. In preparation for the event, Cloud swung Ultima Weapon in an underhanded, rising arc. Off balance, Sephiroth couldn't dodge gracefully, instead heaving sideways and landing hard on his hip. Cloud twirled to build momentum on his huge blade, then sent it downward with gravity's blessing.

Sephiroth rolled aside awkwardly—**you** try rolling with a two plus meter long sword in your hands!—but rose easily to his feet, not even limping from taking all his weight on that hip in the fall. He was moving with his usual grace, as if he hadn't been too weak to do more than totter along as recently as three months ago. Cloud marveled at his resilience—he could spring back from almost anything, but Sephiroth was in another league entirely.

While Cloud was busy evaluating his fitness, Sephiroth was readying another attack. He whipped Masamune up in a stab at Cloud's throat, which Cloud parried easily—as he was meant to. Their swords scraped together, hissing like vipers as Sephiroth slithered into close range. He freed his left hand from his hilt and straight-armed Cloud across the throat and upper chest, while simultaneously planting his left foot behind Cloud's, ankle-to-ankle. One moment Cloud was desperately searching for a way out of a blade lock with one of the few men left on the Planet who were stronger than him, and the next he was flat on his back, luck and reflex keeping his sword up to deflect the downward stab that would 'finish' him.

Thus deflected, Masamune plunged into the gym floor—which was already scarred from many similar occurrences. Suddenly, Cloud, still on the ground, actually had an advantage. Masamune had been deflected past him, so Cloud was actually inside Sephiroth's guard. He pulled his knees to his chest, springing upward with his hands. His left boot connected under Sephiroth's chin, staggering him. But Cloud still couldn't escape the circle of Sephiroth's arms, so they both went down in a heap as Masamune abruptly released the floor and Sephiroth's one support disappeared.

Sephiroth, who wound up on the bottom with Cloud's feet in his face, bit Cloud's calf. Cloud yelped and jerked his legs away, which gave Sephiroth enough leverage to sit up and rock onto his feet, dumping Cloud from his lap. Cloud himself used that momentum to roll onto his own feet.

They regained their fighting positions, staring at each other past the dangerous gleam of their weapons, waiting for an opening. They circled slowly as if dancing, but they switched leads like water—one moment Sephiroth led; the next, Cloud might take control of the dance.

Cloud was just outside Masamune's effective range, which meant he was a good distance outside Ultima Weapon's range, and would have to pass significantly into Masamune's range to have any hope of scoring a hit. With a sword as big as his, he didn't encounter this situation very often. Still, he was well used to being at a height, weight, and reach disadvantage, and he had faced almost the exact same fight against the Clone. Of course, the real Sephiroth was decidedly more imaginative in battle, using his formidable physical gifts and years of experience to **create** opportunities, where the Clone had mostly just been patient enough to wait for an opening.

But Cloud was creative, too. He lunged into Sephiroth's space without warning, Ultima Weapon drawn back to strike. Honed reflexes made Sephiroth step sideways to keep the range open and swing Masamune toward Cloud's side. Cloud didn't bother to block with Ultima Weapon, instead deflecting the great sword with his battle knife, freed as quickly as thought. The knife could never take a head-on blow from a sword as fine as Masamune—it would be cut like butter—but Cloud didn't need it to. Another hissing slide of metal against metal, and Cloud was inside Sephiroth's guard **again**, with Masamune safely out of the way temporarily. He didn't close far enough to bring himself in range of Sephiroth's dangerous fists or feet, instead poking at the other man with the razor point of his crystalline blade.

Sephiroth scooted sideways with amazing alacrity—apparently, even he didn't feel like taking his chances at being shish kabobed. He used the pressure of Masamune against the knife to provide a center of rotation away from Ultima Weapon, winding up at Cloud's back, Masamune now free of the knife's interdiction. He raised his sword to strike, but Cloud jumped up into the air **hard**, turning mid-flight so his boots clunked against the high ceiling. He sprung off, diving blade first at Sephiroth, but the general had dropped the point of his blade almost to the ground, raising his hands and essentially creating a wall between him and any strike Cloud could launch.

But Sephiroth was never one to defend when there was a chance to attack, so he used Cloud's extra distance from the ground to enable him to swing Masamune in one of those rare lower-quarter strikes, slicing upward and sending Cloud ricocheting back toward the ceiling, which he hit hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. It was all Cloud could do to control his subsequent descent so he didn't fall right back onto Sephiroth's waiting blade. He landed hard and had only managed to get to one knee by the time Sephiroth closed with a blazing series of strikes.

Cloud gritted his teeth as the blows fell, sending shocks up his arms as he desperately defended himself, having to bring his knife back into play in order to keep up. He couldn't even manage to get to his feet under the punishing rain, but he found he was just able to hold up under the assault—eventually, Sephiroth would have to break off and try something else.

Sephiroth seemed to realize it, too, and stepped back again to circle, but Cloud bounced to his feet again and slammed Ultima Weapon as hard as he could against Masamune's deadly curve. Sephiroth didn't have to defend at all, but Cloud wasn't going for him in the first place. In this case, hitting the sword was as good as hitting its wielder. The force of the blow lifted Sephiroth off of his feet and dashed man and sword against a wall on the far side of the room.

Taking a moment to shake out his aching arms, Cloud cautiously advanced on his sprawled opponent. Sephiroth was pulling himself out of the wreckage of a bank of shelves, looking vaguely cross. Suddenly he made a hand movement, followed shortly by a stab of pain in Cloud's forehead.

"Ouch!" Cloud exclaimed, watching the Materia bounce away. "What is it with you and throwing Materia at me? Is it in your genetic code? The damn Clone did it, too."

Sephiroth smirked. "You said no magic, but you never said anything about not using the Materia themselves."

"Uh huh," Cloud said, not impressed. "That's it, time to play rough. Just remember—you started it."

Sephiroth had time enough to appear worried, but it was far too late. Cloud zoomed in at full speed, swinging Ultima Weapon in a pattern just short of Omni-slash. Sephiroth did his best to block it, but even as fast as he was, Cloud had always been fast, and Jenova and Mako had only increased that edge. Part of the problem was undoubtedly that Sephiroth still had no idea what he was capable of, though he hadn't been pulling any punches except for the tiniest bit necessary to keep from killing each other. Cloud, however, was still working up to his full strength and speed. He was a little out of practice, but not as badly as Sephiroth was; and now, between the more recent experience, greater speed, and the advantage of surprise, Cloud had completely demolished Sephiroth's defenses.

Sephiroth's eyes were wide as Ultima Weapon sailed past his face close enough to leave a thin thread of blood welling from his cheekbone. The blade came to a halt only when it was embedded in the wall. Both knew that Cloud could have as easily taken off Sephiroth's head.

"I yield," Sephiroth said quietly. Cloud nodded and pulled Ultima Weapon out of the wall, flipping it to his back easily. Then he bent and carefully picked up Masamune and returned it to Sephiroth.

"You okay?" Cloud asked. Sephiroth shook his head.

"It's been a long time since I had to yield. I guess I really am out of practice."

"Nah, not so badly as all that. Stamina's a little low, but the main thing is that you were still trying to figure out how much I've changed. You assumed you still had the physical advantages though—strength, speed, all that—but I've had enough Mako to almost completely overcome that disparity. You'll always be bigger and stronger, but I'm faster." He grinned at his lover. "Surprise!"

Sephiroth put a hand on his head, ruffling his hair and laughing. Cloud took a swing, but Sephiroth's arms were so much longer he could barely graze him with his fingertips. Sephiroth laughed even harder, so Cloud kicked his shin. Sephiroth yelped in indignation, and now it was Cloud's turn to laugh as he ducked out from under Sephiroth's hand.

"Just what you deserve, jerk," he said without heat.

"Tsk, Lieutenant, insulting a superior officer?"

Both Cloud and Sephiroth jerked to look over at the doors. Colonel Andrews stood casually leaning against the wall, his sword slung across his back. There was a knot of very nervous looking SOLDIERs hanging around by him, eyes flicking back and forth between Cloud and Sephiroth as if unsure who was the greater threat.

Cloud saluted sharply. "Colonel, Sir. Didn't see you there, Sir!"

Andrews chuckled. "A joke, Strife. Still, that was some show you two put on." He looked at the SOLDIERs standing near him. "See, boys? That's what we're training to be able to do. Strife there is the only person around who's been up against Jenova multiple times and walked away, and I'd hazard to say that's part of the reason why."

Cloud shrugged. "Actually, last time I think I was carried away."

Andrews waved his hand airily. "Details. This, Strife, Sephiroth, is a volunteer group I've gotten together to put in some extra hours of training, specifically anti-Jenova, if I can manage to get my hands on a little more on her strengths and weaknesses. It'll probably grow a bit after the news makes the rounds." Everyone nodded grimly.

Andrews peered at them sharply. "You know, if you like, you can work with us. I'm afraid no one's at your level of combat skill, but a variety of opponents is always good. And you could definitely help us out. Especially you, Cloud. Practical experience against Jenova is rare as gold and at least a thousand times more valuable right now."

Cloud glanced at Sephiroth, who gazed back levelly, then shrugged. "Alright. I guess I'm okay with it." Sephiroth nodded in agreement.

Andrews smiled. "Great! We can start right now…unless you guys had something else to be doing?"

"Nah," Cloud said. "Let's do it."

Sephiroth stepped in. "Everyone break into groups of two or three. AVALANCHE used groups of three on its battle teams; even though SOLDIER usually works in pairs, remember that more teammates means division of labor. Against a tricky opponent like Jenova, you'll definitely need that."

Cloud spoke up. "We often delegated healing and support spells to one person, physical attacks to another, and the third party member took advantage of any elemental weaknesses she exposed—if she did—and using attack magic…"

* * *

Hi, again! 

That's it, for now. I hope everyone enjoyed it! This part is pretty self-explanatory, I think, though if anyone's confused, please let me know. Next part I have a special treat I think you'll find interesting, though that's all I'm going to say about it.

See you all next time!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	17. Ordered Chaos

Hello, all!

Sorry, it's been a while. It may be a while until my next update, too, so I ask for your patience. No beta on this one, so all mistakes are my own.

Reviewer of the part is drumroll Inu Hanyou for a long, detailed, and useful review. Thankies! Honorable mention goes to kazuhiko, who somehow managed to review very nearly every chapter on both AYCK and CAN (remember CAN, everybody?) in the space between the last posting and this one. More thankies! Please accept this virtual chocolate ™ as a token of my gratitude!

Anyway, AYCK now has more chapters that CAN did! (It's had a bigger word count for AGES.) So, as a special treat/New Year's present, I present to you a part following Vincent. A lot of reviews indicated an interest in him, so I decided to expand upon a part I was previously going to just gloss over on the grounds that neither Cloud nor Sephiroth is present.

Please enjoy!

* * *

Passing through the long-abandoned city, Vincent could almost hear the ghosts whispering in the walls, in the lights that still glowed in the houses, in the quiet murmur of water over stone. The Forgotten Capital was a lovely place, and he liked the sense of age and wisdom it had. The curving forms of the shell houses were both alien and soothing to eyes accustomed to the harsh edges of man-made structures, or the utter devastation of Midgar. There was no doubt the city was succumbing to the ravages of time, but it did so with a quiet dignity he found appealing.

He made a special effort to move quietly, careful not to allow the sensors in the bag over his shoulder to clack together. He basked in the silence and pale sunlight, hearing far away a long-forgotten wind chime singing quietly in the cool morning breeze, silver notes suspended on the air like oil on water. Despite the desire to simply wander this place for days, he exercised his formidable self-restraint. After all, he had a mission.

Besides, Cid would worry. The pilot was already unhappy enough about leaving him alone, but he had to carry the latest dispatches to Wutai. He would barely leave the bridge with Yuffie aboard. Vincent rather thought her airsickness offended his professional pride. He was justifiably proud of getting the _Highwind_ flying again, and probably considered the ninja's constant misery a slight against the ship.

The city center came into view, and he found his feet slowing. He felt strangely reluctant to approach Aeris's final resting place, but he forced himself onward.

Standing at the bank of the pool of deep blue water, Vincent sighed softly. They all missed Aeris, and of all people on the Planet who had to die, she was the least deserving of such a fate. On the other hand, something told him the sacrifice had been necessary. That didn't make it any easier to bear, though.

He put his bag down and reached into a pocket, withdrawing a small paper envelope. Then he knelt by the pool, carefully poking a series of small holes in the earth. He opened the envelope and carefully extracted one seed at a time, placing it in a hole, and covering over it. He continued until he had planted all of them, then sat back to stare meditatively over the water, envisioning how the place would look draped in the bright blooms of Aeris's flowers.

It would be beautiful, he decided. And it was about time something grew in this place besides the skeletal white trees, the lichens, and the weeds. The sorrowful marker of a long-gone people might be a pleasant enough, peaceful place to him, but with the ending of one thing came the beginning of another. The Ancients themselves had observed this cycle in life, and Vincent found it only right that something new finally begin here.

He smiled. "Hello, Aeris," he whispered into the heavy air. "I know you're not here, _per se_, but I know you can hear me. I wanted to tell you that we miss you, and still think of you. We all regret what happened, but I know you are content to be where you are now."

He paused for a moment, then decided to go ahead and lay out the heavy weight that seemed to bear down upon him constantly. "Things have taken a bad turn. I worry for the Planet and for everyone on it in the days to come. I hope we can beat them, when they come—" He didn't want to speak that hated name here. "But I wonder if the Planet can survive another great war, one greater than all the others. I wonder if the cost of winning will be too high. How long can the Planet sustain such terrible strain before it breaks?"

He shook his head. "All I have are questions and hope and the determination to go on. I suppose that must be enough. If you can, please tell the Planet not to give up on humanity. Humans may not be able to hear the Planet the same way the Cetra can, but we will do our best to safeguard it, anyway." He laughed quietly. "Listen. I think that is the first time I have included myself as a human since awakening. It feels nice to be part of something, don't you think?"

He sighed. "I just wish you could tell us what to do to help."

Even as he voiced the unrealistic hope, he felt a charge gather in the air. He felt compelled to close his eyes, and when he did, he could feel Aeris's presence all around him. He could smell her body smell, and the sweet perfume of her flowers that had always lingered in her hair. He could feel her gentle fingers touch his cheek gently, then grasp his hand. He was guided to his feet and led, blind and disoriented, but trusting.

When her presence subsided with a soft sound like fond laughter, he opened his eyes to find himself standing by the altar pool in the lower level of the glass city. It was a surprise, since the stairs downward had been gone on previous visits to the city—indeed, upon glancing upward, he saw that they were still gone. Also to his surprise, his bag had also been transported down with him. He hadn't heard it make any noise, and he certainly hadn't carried it himself.

The whole occurrence was inexplicable…yet it brought a smile to his face. If he had ever doubted Aeris could contact them from the Lifestream, that doubt was gone now. It didn't get much clearer than taking him by the hand and leading him where she wanted him to go. Now the question was 'why.' What did she hope for him to do, or see, or understand down here?

As he turned the question over in his mind, he carefully pulled out the Lifestream-monitoring devices. He had intended to set them up around the upper pool, since it was the closest he could get to the underground city, perhaps adding a few around the viewing device the Key of the Ancients unlocked. But now that he was here, he could set them up in this more optimal location.

Red XIII had outdone himself in making the LMDs. They were supremely delicate sensors housed carefully in 'dead' materials—all synthetics created without the use of Mako. This enabled the sensors to pick up tiny fluctuations without having to estimate how much was an artifact of the Mako already in the construction materials. Vincent was not a Mako scientist—he had been a TURK, so he was conversant in the basics, but nothing more. Still, he knew that the Cosmo Canyon native had done extremely well to scrape together as many as he had, as quickly as he had.

Now it was up to Vincent to deploy them. He'd been told that circles were best, concentric ones, if he had enough sensors. But whatever his layout, he was to take very detailed notes on everything from elevation to inclination to position relative to the others. That was okay, though. He was good at details, and while some might have found them tedious, he found them soothing. Like that solitary wind chime.

He pulled out the GPS unit he was to use to locate every sensor as he placed it. The unit was combined with a computer program that would convert his readings into a three-dimensional representation, which would then be fed into the computers running the complete net. Then he began the time-consuming work of designing the sensor grid. He had made a tentative one based on his recollections of the city, on the off chance he could find a way down here, but he had spent most of his time laying out one for the upper level.

Almost three hours later, with a crick in his neck that made him feel every minute of his almost fifty-eight years, he finally finished the layout. He had taken literally hundreds of measurements, pacing around the area surrounding the altar numerous times to get everything arranged to his satisfaction. He doubted that he'd have another opportunity to access this place any time soon if he messed this up.

Finally, he actually put them in place. Each was shaped like a stake almost a meter long, designed to be hammered into the ground. He hoped he didn't encounter any rocks, or anything—while the LMDs were functional even partially buried, his sensor grid was just better with all of them at full depth. At least he had his superior strength to help drive them down. He didn't envy Reno his task of hammering his set in, without enhanced strength, and in the heat and humidity of Mideel. And the Temple of the Ancients—the redhead's next stop—would be even worse. Of course, he had the advantage of being a Cetra—that would probably help him find the optimal placements for the sensors better than Vincent's guesses and mathematical projections.

Vincent had exactly thirty stakes to work with—they were thankfully very slim and lightweight, sliding with surprising ease into the earth. He started first on the outermost ring of eighteen stakes in a huge circle around the altar area. On first sight, the subterranean portions of the city hadn't looked so immense, but it really was a complete city below the ground. Vincent idly wondered what could drive a people—a largely agrarian people, at that—underground. The obvious answer tickled at the back of his mind, and he pushed it aside, deciding not to wonder anymore, until his job was done.

The second circle was of nine stakes set around the edges of the altar pool, and the last was of three stakes in the middle of the pool, around the base of the platform on which the altar sat. Three was a nice, balanced number—they fought in threes, before Aeris's death they had numbered nine, and there were nine elements.

The final circle, of course, required some diving. Vincent could swim, though he had seldom ever had occasion to do so, and he hadn't tried since his…changes. Still, he thought the weight of his claw arm ought to help him sink to the bottom, where he wanted to be, and the fact that he didn't actually need to breathe very often would also be a boon. He swept off his heavy cloak and boots, and quickly braided his hair out of his face. Finally, the absolute last thing to part with, he unfastened his belt and holster, reluctantly setting Death Penalty aside. Then he took up the three remaining stakes and the hammer, and took the plunge.

The water was only cool, not the bitter cold he had half-expected. Watching Cloud lay Aeris to rest in the upper pool, he had thought it must be cold, for the blond's jaw was clenched, his lips bloodless, and he shivered at weird intervals, as if he couldn't help himself. And if that pool had been cold, surely this subterranean one, surrounded by cold, slick glass, should be even colder. But now, swimming through the pleasant water, he thought it had just been grief and shock, and berated himself for ever thinking otherwise. Everyone had been cold that day, but on the inside, where warm clothing couldn't touch.

He reached the first spot he meant to set a stake and got to work, happy to numb away the lingering grief and pain of that day with physical exertion. He came up for breath between stakes, allowing his heavy claw to pull him under and using his bare toes to grip the bottom for traction as he hammered the stakes home.

It was as he finished the last stake and stepped away to push off for the surface that he stepped on a stone on the sandy bottom and slipped. Fortunately, he was buoyant enough not to actually fall, but he did drop the hammer. It seemed wrong to leave the blunt and artless implement in the middle of this graceful city—even though the Ancients had undoubtedly had hammers, too—so he reached down for it, scrabbling on the bottom for a moment. His flesh hand closed around the hammer just as his bracing claw touched something that sent a flare of awareness through him. He gingerly clasped the item in his sharp fingers and examined it in the watery light, losing the rest of his breath to the surrounding water.

Aeris's Materia.

He should have realized sooner, actually. Why would Aeris bring him here? Hadn't he just asked what he could do to help? Holy could help—if the Planet didn't decide to just wipe humans from its soil, too. Though that would probably not be a bad idea for the Planet, Vincent found he was pretty attached to this existence, right now. He had friends who looked at him and didn't just see the monster, yet were not oblivious to it, either. He had no home, exactly, unless one counted the _Highwind_, where he spent so much of his time, but he didn't really need anything beyond that.

So Holy was a double-edged sword. So far as Vincent's experience went, those were the most effective kind.

Carefully making a cage of his metal fingers, he stuffed the hammer into his waistband and struck out for the surface. Now he cursed the weight of his artificial hand, wanting nothing more than to get out of here, call Cid for a pick-up, and get this treasure to Midgar as quickly as possible.

Only a stroke from the surface, the water turned freezing, and his hair stood on end. Pure reflex moved him out of the way as something long and whippy plunged into the water at him. He looked up in shock and felt his heart spasm at the unearthly face above the water, shining a soft violet-pink, with a star-like glow in place of an eye, and a metal headdress proclaiming her hideous identity to all who could see.

Jenova.

Another tentacle came his way, only slightly impeded by the water, and Vincent squirmed aside. He broke the surface and swam as fast as he could to a shore unoccupied by the Calamity. To his relief, she had taken a position pretty far away from his belongings—and his weapon. He darted toward his gun, using all his inhuman speed to reach it as quickly as possible. Odd of her not to guard it. She'd seen Death Penalty before and knew what it could do, so surely…

Then he realized she didn't need to stand over it to guard it. Hissing, slavering beasts seemed to come out of nowhere, lunging at him, biting any bit of flesh they could manage. They delayed him just enough that she could hit him with one of her wriggling tentacles. It swept him off his feet, and he hit the ground hard enough to rattle his teeth. The tentacle fell again, slapping at his right arm and splitting the skin open with the force.

Bleeding, angry, and scared, he finally managed to get a hold of his gun belt. He didn't dare let go of the White Materia with his left hand for even a moment, but he couldn't draw the large gun with only one hand with the belt unfastened—only the resistance of the fastenings kept his holster at his side when he drew, allowing the leather and the weapon to part.

Instead, he charged a fire Materia, casting the spell at the little hench-creatures, causing them to scatter. Most beasts were scared of fire, even if they weren't especially vulnerable to it, so the spell had been a good bet. He used the new space to withdraw several paces from Jenova's looming form, but he just couldn't seem to get out of range of her tentacles. They continued to swing, landing stinging blows on his flesh and jarring him whenever she encountered the metallic solidity of his claw.

Furious and more than a little afraid for his life, he yielded to the rage of the monsters trapped inside of him and Chaos came roaring to the surface.

As much as he wished otherwise, the monsters were not entirely separate entities; rather each reflected an aspect of the darker side of his personality, the raw violence of a man who had once found it acceptable to kill for a living. His basest desires, unreasoning rage, capacity for cruelty, and his cold-blooded disregard for the lives of others—all were represented.

Chaos was the last of these, the one that cared only for his continued existence and that any enemy set before him be destroyed, so it somewhat surprised him that his body warped into this particular creature. There was no way he could fight Jenova and win, not alone. A creature like the Galian Beast, for whom survival and continuance were the only concerns, seemed the better choice. But when he was the Beast, he couldn't think, not really, only act and react—reason and logic had little to do with it. The Hellmasker and Chaos were the two forms in which he could think most clearly.

Of course, that meant their 'personalities' seemed stronger, and being taken over by Chaos was disorienting. He was still Vincent, certainly, but certain things buried in his psyche stood out more strongly, so much so that he was transformed into another being, built from the old. Yes, disorienting, though useful, in this case, for he retained the presence of mind to keep his claw clasped around the Materia—though it had started to burn painfully—and leap into flight. The difference between the upper and lower levels of the city was quite substantial, and if he could just get out, perhaps he could lose Jenova as she sought to cross that divide. He didn't have any idea how she got down in the first place, and only hoped she would be delayed significantly.

The strong beats of his wings carried him upward rapidly. The view he had of the city was incredible, but he couldn't do more than notice it in the background—first, because he had to get away from Jenova; and second, because if he allowed his anger and fear to falter for long enough, he would revert and make a messy red smear on all that lovely glass as gravity reasserted itself.

He exploded from the narrow opening in the floor of the central Ancient house that led down to the city. The opening wasn't actually that small, but with his wings outstretched, it certainly seemed like it. Sweeping along the inside curve of the spiraling house at speed was exhilarating—it was in these short moments that Vincent understood, however dimly, Cid's adoration of flight. The still air of the dead city was sliced to ribbons by his stretching wings, the centuries-old paths beneath him slipping, stone by stone, behind him.

With the distance placed between him and the perceived threat, the monster's strength seeped away from him, and he reverted to his recognizably human self. He landed running—the distance wasn't enough, couldn't be, not so quickly. In the form of Chaos, he might have retained a lot more self-awareness and intelligence than in other forms, but he still quickly lost the impetus to remain transformed once the immediate threat was out of sight. So he was left to run. Fortunately, with all Hojo had done to him, he could outrun almost anything natural, and a lot of the unnatural.

Still, it might yet come to a fight, especially if the monster had left more hench-creatures to ambush him. He still had his belt in his right hand and the Materia in his left, leaving him in the same predicament as before, only this time he had a moment or two of breathing room. He carefully placed the Materia in his mouth, then set about fastening his belt and holster. Once that was done, he spat the Materia back into his left hand, once again forming a protective cage around it with his fingers, then fumbled on his belt for the other items of interest. The GPS box containing all the information on his sensor grid—good thing that was still there, or Red would probably have his hide, Jenova or not—and his PHS.

Unhooking the PHS from its spot, he deftly flipped it on and hit the speed dial. He cursed softly as the thing rang and rang…and rang…

"Vincent? The f--- you doing calling this early?"

Vincent staggered a step with the force of his relief, then continued to run. "Cid. I need a pick up right away."

Through the device he could practically feel Cid's riveted attention—and concern. "What happened?"

"No time to talk. Just get to Bone Village as fast as you can. I'll meet you there."

"It'll be a couple hours," Cid warned.

"I'm on foot. You'll beat me, I'm sure. See you then." He hung up, cutting off Cid's questions. The PHS went back in his belt, and he put his head down and ran as hard as he could manage to sustain. It was easy enough to run in the city—it was crumbling, but the paths were still in fairly decent condition under his bare soles. Once he entered the Sleeping Forest, however, it wasn't nearly so easy. Even the main trail faded out in places, winding back and forth, littered with fallen leaves, with stones and roots sticking out to trip the unwary.

Fortunately, Vincent hardly qualified as unwary. Though there was little he could do to spare his unprotected feet the pain of running over the uneven terrain, he watched the trail in front of him, and strained his hearing backwards, listening for pursuit. He didn't hear anything large enough to be Jenova herself, but from the grunts, growls, and scrabbling of clawed feet, he knew there were an awful lot of smaller creatures behind him. Actually, he felt rather like an unfortunate red fox running from the hounds and praying the hunter was far enough behind that he could escape. Too bad he no longer had his cape, since it would add an ironic little touch to the situation.

As he tore through Bone Village, he called for the archaeologists and excavation crews to get inside, or under cover. Even so, he heard the screams as some failed to comply quickly enough. He hoped most of the shouts were terror of the creatures bearing down on the site, not pain or death cries as the mostly helpless scientists were mauled.

The leisurely walk that had taken him from the _Highwind_'s landing point to the Forgotten City had taken all of yesterday with appropriate rest stops, though he had of course not stopped to sleep. Returning at the fastest pace he could sustain over the terrain, without rest, and pausing only to fight off any monsters he fell afoul of, it took only three hours. Seeing the _Highwind_ gleaming in the sun, poised for flight as gracefully as yesterday morning when he waved her off, Vincent finally felt like he might make it.

Then Murphy intervened. As an ex-TURK, Vincent realized he should have known better than to tempt him by getting his hopes up. One of his bare feet stepped down over a tunnel in the soil, which promptly collapsed under his weight and the force transfer from running. His ankle twisted on the way down, then got wedged in the debris. Taking advantage of his sudden immobility, one of the slavering canine-looking creatures lunged at him.

But Vincent still had his right hand free, and Death Penalty came to it as readily as if summoned. He shot the drooling creature in its deformed face, bowling it backwards into its companions, where it did not get up. The others, however, continued on.

Vincent fired as fast as he could, but even his enhancements couldn't make up for the fact that Death Penalty was not designed for speed—precision, accuracy, and power were its strengths. They were Vincent's strengths, too, and what he valued in a weapon—if he wanted speed, he'd get a machine gun. Of course, right now, he wouldn't say no to one.

One of the creatures got close enough to lunge at his face. Vincent reflexively interposed his practically indestructible left arm, grimly holding onto the Materia as the thing tore at the arm, shaking its head in a way that probably would have torn his flesh arm right off. He raised his free hand, pressing the muzzle of his weapon against the underside of the creature's throat and blowing its neck into a bloody stump. Then another came, and another. The monsters inside him roared for release, and he could feel the Galian Beast perilously close to the surface of his mind. He held it back—he couldn't afford to degenerate into a mindless beast at this juncture.

A sudden explosion of blue-violet energy jerked his attention toward the massed hench-creatures. Because he knew what he was looking for, he managed to catch sight of Cid in mid-air, his jacket and scarf flapping around him as he swooped for another stab in his Dragon Dive Limit. The crack of a handgun nearby, followed by a wall of fire alerted him to the presence of Elena, of all people, calmly punching holes in the horde of enemies. Yuffie danced around at her side, defending the TURK from any enemies that got close, and launching Doom of the Living. Sometimes Vincent forgot how dangerous the little ninja was—if she were taller and strong enough to carry a heavier weapon, her Doom of the Living would be almost as devastating as Cloud's Omnislash.

Vincent charged up another fire spell, pouring it into the creatures still coming at him, and leveling his weapon for another round. Between the four of them, the creatures were soon driven back a ways. Yuffie and Elena moved to hold them off, spreading out a bit and catching any that tried to advance between them in a deadly gauntlet of magic, bullets, and shuriken. Cid, meanwhile, moved to Vincent's side, taking out the last monster behind the women's defensive line as he did so.

"You all right?" the gruff pilot asked, a touching amount of concern openly coloring his voice.

"My foot's stuck," Vincent said, feeling just a little embarrassed about it. Cid stooped to examine it, then put a hand on his calf just above where it disappeared into the ground.

"Putcher hand on my shoulder and hang on. This might hurt a little." When Vincent had holstered Death Penalty and complied, the pilot yanked on his leg. His grip was firm enough to leave bruises, and the dirt scraping over Vincent's abused ankle really did hurt, but he'd endured worse. Unfortunately, the ankle was already swelling and he found he couldn't put his weight on it. It was practically inconceivable, but he'd actually managed the sprain the damn thing, Mako enhancements be damned.

He swore softly but with feeling, and Cid glanced at his face. "Can't walk?" He chewed his ever-present cigarette for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Hold on, then. Can't let these f---ers go and eat you without telling us what the f--- happened." He yelled over his shoulder at the women. "C'mon back, ladies! We are **leaving**!" Then he wrapped an arm around Vincent's waist, dragging him against his body, and jumped toward the _Highwind_.

Vincent had never known Cid could carry someone with him when he jumped. His acrobatic feats were incredible even for the enhanced, but he'd never seen Cid jump for any reason than to attack his enemies. The leaps he made now were, if anything, even more tremendous than those he used to fight. It felt almost like flying—and it definitely kept Vincent's weight off his bad ankle.

The older man just hung on. He could hear Cid's breath—deep inhale while in flight, forceful exhalation when his feet touched the ground to push off again. The smell of leather and cigarettes was wrapped around them like some homebrewed charm. It was actually rather nice. The eventfulness of the day, the long run and the sustained fear, the transformation into Chaos and holding back the Beast—all took a toll, leaving him drained. The clank of Cid's boots against the _Highwind_'s deck jolted him out of the exhausted haze into which he had slipped.

Cid set him down, looking even more worried than before. "You okay?"

"Fine. Just tired."

Cid nodded, taking his word for it. "Okay, then. Can you cover the girls from here for a minute? I have to get those lazy f---ers on the bridge ready to get the f--- out of here."

Vincent drew Death Penalty, bellied down on the deck, and trained the weapon on the creatures following Elena and Yuffie back to the airship. "Watch me."

Cid chuckled. "Give 'em hell," he said, then disappeared into the ship, bellowing like an enraged dragon, all trace of good humor gone.

Vincent smirked for a moment—Cid tried so hard to be gruff and even mean, but he really was a good friend. Then the humor drained from Vincent as he lined up a shot on a monster that had a clear shot at Elena, despite Yuffie's best efforts. Elena hadn't yet noticed it, either, but so far the creature hadn't had an opportunity to capitalize upon it.

The bullet Vincent put in its brain ensured it never would.

The next few minutes consisted of mechanically taking shots to defend the two women as they scrambled back to the _Highwind_ without the benefit of Cid's incredible jumping ability. But both were very quick on their feet, covering each other ably all the while.

Like Yuffie, Elena was the sort of person people forgot to account for. People just didn't think of her as dangerous; even Vincent had wondered why she was a TURK. She'd shown them a glimpse in the Midgar tunnels before Meteor, but she'd been fighting in a group in which everyone had a specific set of responsibilities, so they'd never seen her full fighting capacity. And the stories he'd been told of how she gave them intel the way only a dumb blonde could—by slipping up with her loose tongue—hadn't really convinced him the TURKs had made a good decision in hiring her. Early retirement seemed to be in her near future.

In the months since Meteor, she had shown herself to be quite the administrator, as efficient an organizer as Reeve or Tseng could be. She kept a finger in every pot, an ear to every door, and could report on anything happening anywhere in the organization of survivors rebuilding the great city. But that didn't make her a TURK—a spy or secretary, maybe, but a TURK had to be able to kill even better than he organized.

Watching her lob grenades with deadly accuracy, shoot her smaller caliber gun with enough skill to take down anything in one hit, and send fire spells over her shoulder to roast whole columns of monsters with a single cast, Vincent decided he'd done her a disservice. She really was a capable fighter. And she was a great team player, defending Yuffie as determinedly as herself.

He'd have to apologize for his previously low opinion of her as a professional killer.

Yuffie made it to the ladder and held it for Elena, firing off an earth spell to create a barrier to delay the monsters as the blonde started up. The ninja followed just after the TURK, using her shorter-ranged weapon to hold off the maddened horde. Both women agilely scampered up the ladder.

Vincent turned his head to bellow Cid's name into the ship. Then he returned to picking off monsters, focusing on those closest to the ladder. He didn't know if they could climb, but they might at least be able to grab onto the rope ladder and shake it hard enough to send one of the hapless climbers plunging to the earth. They weren't yet high enough for the fall to kill them outright, but the fangs of the creatures below would compensate for that.

"Cid!" he roared again, just as the pilot appeared in the doorway.

Cid grinned at him. "Don't worry about a thing. We're outta here." Just then, the airship's engines changed pitch, and she began to move slowly forward and up. Elena and Yuffie climbed faster—no one sane wanted to be stuck on a rope ladder dangling down the side of a moving airship. Cid moved toward the ladder, standing ready to help the girls up the last few feet.

Once both women were aboard, the pilot thumbed his PHS, and the ship accelerated more rapidly, turning south toward the sea.

Yuffie, not yet sick, plunked down beside Vincent. "Hey, old-timer. Lookin' a little rough there."

Vincent smiled wanly at her—that was as close as the girl was likely to get to an actual expression of concern. "I'm okay. Tired." He looked up at Cid. "We have to get to Midgar as quickly as possible."

Cid crooked a brow. "Way ahead of you. Now are you gonna tell us what the f--- happened out there, or what?"

Vincent inclined his head. "I got the sensors set up in the lower city. I'm not sure how I got down there, but I am sure Aeris did it. She wanted me to have this." He held up his claw hand to show them the Materia, but found he couldn't open the fingers or flex the elbow. He scowled. "Fantastic."

"Does it hurt?" Elena asked. "I have a Restore in my Minerva Band."

Vincent shook his head. "No it's prosthetic, though when we're done, a little healing would definitely be appreciated. Thank you." He glanced at his frozen arm. "Anyway, the 'this' to which I referred is Aeris's White Materia."

Yuffie's eyes went wide. "You have it? Wow! With that, we can call Holy to kill all the Jenova-things, right?"

Cid shook his head. "Remember before? There was a chance Holy would f---in' obliterate all the people, too. Can't f---in' chance that, unless we absolutely f---in' have to."

Vincent nodded. "I agree. But it is a good weapon to have in our arsenal. Unfortunately, while I was retrieving it from the base of the altar, Jenova made an appearance."

Cid came immediately to his side, actually dropping his cigarette from his mouth. "Shit! Are you all right?" Yuffie and Elena looked equally concerned, Elena pushing her sleeve up to reveal the glint of her Minerva Band and the green glitter of her Restore Materia.

Vincent was touched, but a little annoyed too. "I'm still just tired, as I was a moment ago. Nothing's changed."

Yuffie's eyes were wide in her face, her customary cheeky grin absent. "But, grandpa, Jenova's nothing to sneeze at. How'd you escape?"

"Chaos. I flew away, then kept running once I reverted."

"Shit," Elena muttered softly. "Why would Jenova be at the City of the Ancients? I can think only of two reasons—she's either passing through on her way to stage an offensive against us, or she was there for the Holy Materia."

"Crap," Yuffie said. "Either way, it doesn't look good. At least she didn't get the Materia, though. Good work, grandpa."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Yuffie."

The girl looked offended, and even more so when Elena and Cid laughed at her expression.

"C'mon," Elena said. "Let's get Mr. Valentine inside off this deck."

Yuffie seemed suddenly to remember she was on a moving airship, because she suddenly turned green. "You guys go on ahead. I think I'd rather die in the open air."

Elena shook her head, propping open the door as Cid helped Vincent up. "One day, I'm going to get you an anti-motion sickness Materia. Seriously. Your father thought we were poisoning you or something." The hatch bumped shut, cutting off any response Yuffie may have managed to muster.

Vincent leaned heavily on Cid the whole way to the Operations Room, then gratefully flopped backwards onto the table. Elena charged her Restore Materia to heal his ankle and the open and slightly bleeding welts on his arm, but nothing happened. She frowned in confusion at the Materia, and tried again. Again, nothing happened, but Vincent began to feel a little queasy.

"Stop," he said, pressing his hand over his revolting stomach. "Something's wrong."

"Poison?" Elena wondered. Cid swore and evaluated his Materia.

"Shit. Don't have a motherf---ing Heal." None of them did.

"Yuffie might," Elena said. "I'll go get her." The blonde's dress shoes tapped rapidly against the deck grates as she ran for the deck. Mere moments later she returned with Yuffie's Mystile, an occurrence that raised both men's brows. Yuffie parting with a Materia was practically unheard of, unless she was trading for a better one—giving up her whole bangle with fully half her Materia so easily there was practically no delay was simply inconceivable.

The blonde caught their stares and flushed slightly, but tilted her chin up defiantly. "Here. Heal." She put a hand on Vincent's chest, pushing slightly. "Lie back. You'll probably feel dizzy." She charged the Materia, casting not a simple Poisona, but Esuna—she was obviously playing it safe, in case it was something more severe than a simple poison or venom.

But instead of the rush of relief he'd been expecting, Vincent felt the urge to gag intensify, a sudden chill wracking his thin form.

"F---!" Cid exclaimed. "Mako poisoning!"

Elena paled. "Shit! Hades, I'm sorry!" She was genuinely distressed for him, which was rather heart-warming, though due to the sudden fever, that was currently the only part of him that felt warm. "I'll go get some bandages and potions from the infirmary. It's barely stocked, but we need to get those wounds closed." She disappeared again.

Cid grabbed the wastebasket and handed it to him. "If you need to yak, use that." He sat on the edge of the table beside Vincent, pushing his hair—which had long escaped the braid he'd restricted it in to swim—away from his face. "You need anything?"

Vincent shook his head slightly. "Stay." And Cid did.

When Elena returned, the two set about potioning and bandaging his open wounds, and wrapping his hideously swollen ankle. They also discovered that his feet were pretty badly lacerated from the long run without footwear. He didn't even feel it past the hot pressure and lancing pain of his injured ankle. They didn't even have any Mako-free painkillers to take the edge off.

Once they had finished tending his injuries as best they could, Cid turned to Elena. "Go return Yuffie's Materia to her, and thank her for letting us use it. Tell her what's happened and that she's not to disturb Vincent. I'll get him to a bed. We'll take him to see that doctor friend of Cloud's once we get to Midgar."

Elena nodded and trotted off, Mystile in hand. Cid scooped Vincent up as though he weighed nothing, ignoring his half-hearted protests.

"No, I will not f---ing put you down, because no, you can't f---ing walk! Just shut up and let me handle this." The pilot deftly navigated them through the rather labyrinthine guts of the airship to his own cabin. He kicked the door open artlessly and marched in to deposit Vincent on the bed. Vincent tried to arrange himself on the bed as comfortably as possible, grateful when Cid helped him position the dead chunk of metal that was his left arm, and set a pillow under his right leg to keep the damaged ankle elevated.

"Get some sleep. We've still got a few hours to Midgar." The pilot turned to go and Vincent sat halfway up.

"You're leaving?" he asked, too tired to mask his dismay effectively. Cid turned back to him, smiling a little.

"Gotta. Can't trust those idiots to fly her the whole way there unsupervised, not with the weather over the South Icicle Islands and out of the northern end of Costa del Sol, these days. You remember the trip here—we bounced around a bit for a good half-hour, there. Well that was just a taste—we went around the worst. This time, we're going straight through. I gotta be there."

Vincent nodded unhappily. "I understand."

Cid sat down on the side of the bed. "Aw, don't frown like that. I promise, I'll be back soon."

"Okay." Cid patted his hand and rose to go. "Cid!" The pilot turned back to him again. "I promise," he said levelly, the ritual as soothing as the comfortable pillows beneath his head and the fuzzy blanket draped over him.

Cid nodded. "Good. Sleep."

Vincent didn't quite manage sleep, just a doze, which was fractured by the bouncing and heaving of the ship as it hit that weather Cid had described. Poor Yuffie was probably considering throwing herself off the ship, by now. Maybe Elena had managed to put her under with a sleep spell first.

Finally, the bucking of the ship slowed and stopped, fading into the vibration of the engines thrusting them through the air and the rotors providing them lift. Vincent started to drift into a real sleep, lulled by the familiar vibration, but just then the door opened—quietly, this time, but it still got his attention. Cid peered in around the doorframe, then entered upon seeing he was awake.

"How do you feel?"

Vincent considered for a moment. "Like I just ran fifty miles in three hours, barefoot, sprained my ankle, and contracted Mako poisoning."

Cid twitched a smile. "So, about as expected, then." He moved to the small hot pad on the other side of the room. "I'll make you some tea—that'll fix you right up." Vincent smiled a little, listening to the other man heat water and pull the abused old tin full of his tea from the cabinet. Soon enough, the room was filled with the aroma of Cid's habitual drink. The soft clink of Cid setting the cups on the nightstand was startling, and Vincent realized he'd nodded off.

Cid helped him to sit up carefully, then handed him a cup of tea. There was a very bitter tone to it, but there was a lot more, too—a woody flavor, a smoky flavor, something that tasted very green, and more. It was actually pretty nice—he had never had the opportunity to taste Cid's tea before, even though they'd been practically conjoined for the past months.

He murmured his appreciation, returning for another sip of the blisteringly hot beverage. Cid lowered himself into the chair beside the bed with a little wince, then took a long swallow of the stuff, seeming oblivious to the temperature. Fifteen minutes later, as Vincent was reaching the extremely bitter dregs, he realized the pain wasn't as intense anymore. He looked at the thin pool of amber-brown liquid remaining in the cup in disbelief.

"That's some tea," he murmured. Cid laughed.

"Kicking in, is it? Good. Only other painkiller aboard, and I know there's no Mako in it. Make it myself. Got a touch of arthritis—this takes the edge off."

"A touch?" Vincent asked. "I can hear your joints grinding whenever you move. It does explain a little why you're always so cranky when you don't get your tea. And your chain smoking."

"Cranky?" Cid asked a touch incredulously. "When all your bones rub together and hammer little nails into each other, I think it's a little more than cranky. Especially after a fight, or a few hours hunched in some access panel tinkering with tiny bits of this and that. Hurts like a motherf---er." He looked at Vincent. "Don't tell anybody."

Vincent shook his head. "Of course not. I'm just grateful you have this."

Cid shrugged. "I'd offer you a cigarette, too, but you don't smoke."

"I used to. Death and thirty years of sleep helped me kick the habit, though. Besides, I don't really need anything else mutating my DNA."

Cid shrugged. "Probably true enough," he said, then took his cup and took both over to the sink. A quick rinse, then he hung them on their hooks and headed back to the bed. He kicked off his boots, pulled off his heavy leather gloves, jacket, and scarf, and finally put his goggles and cigarettes on the night table (which was actually a file cabinet bolted to the floor, but that didn't really matter). He lay down next to Vincent, careful not to jostle him in any way.

"Sleep, Vincent. While the tea's still working and you can."

Vincent nodded drowsily, his earlier sleepiness returning with the added body heat of his bed partner. Cid reached up to stroke his cheek fondly.

"I'm glad you made it back, Vincent," he muttered roughly.

Vincent didn't answer in words, just wrapping his bandaged human arm around Cid's body with a sigh. Cid chuckled quietly, then leaned up to press a kiss to his forehead. Vincent felt his coarse whiskers scratch lightly at his skin and the soft dampness of his lips just above his eyebrows. Then the pilot curled back against his side, resting his ash-blond head against Vincent's shoulder and sighing as he settled into sleep. Vincent fell asleep not long after the first soft snore.

* * *

Heya!

I hope everyone enjoyed this part as much as I did writing it. I'm very fond of this part, even if the next chapter is totally kicking my butt. I also anticipate having no significant personal time for a while (working for one's living can sometimes suck), so please be patient waiting for the next part. I promise it will be **well** worth the wait. I'm just dying to get it presentable—might just make a few people's days. grin And that's all the hints you're getting!

Anyway, please tell me what you think!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	18. The Art of Conflict Resolution

Hello, good readers!

Okay, so this was significantly delayed. When I said it could be a while, I didn't really mean this long. Sorry! All I can say is, if you're ever offered a job where they say you'll probably have to work some overtime occasionally, run the other way as fast as you can. Working six days a week, week after week sucks big time. On the plus side, I'm making enough to be considering buying a 360 and a big freakin' TV for when Halo 3 comes out.

Betcha thought I was an RPG-only kinda person, huh? Though I will say they are my favorites. grin I'm resisting a muse for FFXII fic right now. I love Balthier. (I think it's the tight pants, I really do. smirk Or maybe that wide, sensuous mouth… sigh)

Anyway, you're actually here for FFVII ficness, not my ramble about life, work, and why videogame men are so much better than the real deal. So, let me just say that this part resolves some of the stuff hanging over our favorite duo. I really hope everyone likes it, as I've a bloody mark on the wall next to my computer from bashing my brains out over it (and how I'm going to explain that to my landlord when my lease expires, I really have no idea). **PLEASE NOTE THE RAISED RATING**! This fic is now rated MATURE.

Ah! Reviewer for the part…once again, Inu Hanyou! Dear, you make my day. Seriously. If I had more than a passing knowledge of any of the fandoms you've written in, I'd do my best to give as wonderful feedback as I get. Runner up is again kazuhiko. Do you sit with the review pane open and review as you read? Your reviews certainly read like it. I like it a lot. Virtual cookies™ for both of you! (And aren't the rest of you jealous?)

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming…

* * *

Cloud tried not to fidget as he waited for Galen to come out and tell them how Vincent was. At this point, he didn't even know what had happened. Cid was standing in a corner, seemingly intent on sucking down every cigarette he had—despite the prominent no smoking signs and the nurses' pointed glares. From the scowl on the pilot's scruffy face, Cloud didn't think now was a good time to ask him what was going on. Yuffie and Elena were nowhere to be found, and Cloud suspected they had gone to update Reeve. All of which left Cloud scrunched down in an uncomfortable hospital chair, fretting over one of his closest friends. 

Galen suddenly emerged from the room in which he was treating Vincent. Cloud rose to his feet, aware of Cid pushing off from the wall nearby and snuffing his cigarette. The doctor didn't say anything, just waving them into the room.

The first thing that Cloud noticed was the bandages. In all the time they spent traveling together, fighting any number of dangerous monsters, Cloud couldn't recall a single instance when Vincent had been forced to wear a bandage more than an hour or two—he healed so quickly on his own it was rarely ever needed, and with potions and Restore Materia, even the worst wounds could be wiped away nearly instantly.

Now, however, the ex-TURK's right arm was swathed in white fabric from wrist to shoulder, and one foot stuck out from under the sheet, wrapped tightly. There were pale stains already starting to show through in lines on the arm bandages, and the bottom of the visible foot was also turning slightly pink. A close look showed that his delicate ankle was far larger than usual, too. His left arm was suspended by a loop of material, holding it away from his thin body, and the brassy metal was dented, bent, and even twisted. Vincent's already pale complexion was an unhealthy, slightly yellow white, and he didn't even look up when they entered, his dark lashes casting even deeper shadows over the bruised-looking crescents under his eyes.

"What's wrong with him?" Cloud asked.

Galen shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure. He displays the symptoms of Mako poisoning, especially seeming to get worse when magic is cast on him. Yet, he responds to none of the treatments for Mako poisoning." He indicated the machine against the wall—a little black disc dialysis machine. "I tried to bring his Mako count down, but it seemed to cause him a great deal of pain, and didn't seem to have any effect, as though he's regenerating Mako as quickly as he loses it. I'm at a loss." He looked at Cid. "He hasn't really been able to stay awake long enough to tell me anything, so anything you know would really help."

Cid chewed on his snuffed cigarette, seeming to order his thoughts. "Well, he was at the Ancient Capital. There's a lot of Lifestream there, right? He said Aeris led him down into the underground city." The pilot glanced at Cloud as he said it and Cloud shivered—as beautiful as that place was, it was irrevocably linked with death for him. Death and being completely out of control due to the Clone and Jenova.

"He set up the sensors as he was supposed to," Cid continued. "Elena took the sensor data to Reeve, I think. Then he got his hands on Aeris's Holy Materia and Jenova—that f---in' space bitch—showed up and attacked him. Had to fly out, then ran for the Bone Village landing site—almost fifty miles, you know, and he made it in three hours. I guess there're advantages to having Hojo f--- you up.

"I think by that time he was already sick, 'cause he tripped on a damn tiny hole in the ground and f---ed up his ankle good. No way he'd hurt himself so bad on something so little as a misstep—couldn't even stand on both feet afterward. Had to f---in' carry him back to the _Highwind_. Elena tried to patch him up with her Restore, but he got all sick. We thought it was a poison or something, and cast an Esuna, but he only got worse. Then we figured Mako poisoning, and brought him back here. I gave him a tea that has some painkilling properties, 'cause that was the only thing we had to take the edge off that didn't have Mako. He slept most of the trip."

Galen was looking a little pale himself. "Jenova, you said. Did she hit him?"

Cid blinked. "I think so. His arm—that's where those welts came from. Why?"

Galen paled further. "The Calamity touched him. He could be infected with the Virus. We could all be infected!" He glanced back at Vincent's still form. "Still, if he's got it, it's proceeding slowly. The Madness usually comes quickly, because only one who's mad would willingly return to his home and his people and risk infecting them if he suspects he's got it."

"Well, he does have Holy," Cid said. "Maybe that's helping fight it off? Or maybe he's sick because of it, and that bitch has nothing to do with it." He had the distinct air of one trying to convince himself.

Galen's eyes sharpened on him. "He still has the Materia? Jenova didn't take it?"

Cid pointed at the damaged metal arm. "Right there. But one of the monsters she sent after him screwed up his arm, so he can't open his hand and let go."

Galen drifted over to the clawed appendage, holding his hand out over it. "Yes, it's here. But it doesn't respond to the name Aeris."

"Aeris said it belonged to her mother," Cloud supplied, wondering what significance his friend saw in it.

"And what was her name? Do you know?"

"Ifalna."

"Ifalna," Galen murmured meditatively. There was a soft white glow filtering between Vincent's frozen fingers.

"What are you doing?" Cid asked suspiciously.

"White Materia are the manifestations of souls. As big as this one appears to be, it must be at least half of the soul of that woman, Ifalna—probably more. It's only a soul, crystallized into the form of a Materia, so it doesn't perceive the way we do, but I can still communicate with it. I may be able to determine if it's doing anything, and if so, what." A frown line appeared between his dark red brows, and his eyes narrowed. "Ugh, she's not being especially cooperative, though."

"Not cooperative? Why wouldn't she cooperate with you? You're a Cetra."

"Let me rephrase—she's not really talkative. I suppose that means she's doing **something**, but I have no idea what. But she must know that your friend is unwell. I can't believe she'd continue if she were causing his illness. And that leaves…"

"Jenova. Ugh. Why can't she just leave us all the hell alone?" Cloud griped.

"Don't you sometimes have to hurt to heal?" Cid asked. "Maybe Aeris's old lady is trying to help, and it just looks like he's really bad off. I mean, that can happen, right? Like fevers—they suck to have and can do bad stuff, too, but they help you fight sickness. Right?"

Galen turned compassionate eyes on Cid. "It's possible, yes. And I can't conclusively say what's going on. I'll try to run some more tests, and maybe we'll find out something. But you have to be prepared for the possibility that he really is sick, and Jenova may already have a foothold in him."

Cid shook his head. "No way. Don't you f---ing tell me what to be prepared for. Vincent f---ing Valentine's been a TURK, a corpse, a lab specimen, and a bona fide goddamn hero. Fifty-seven f---ing years old and he goes and helps save the world! F--- no, he ain't just gonna give up to that vacuum-sucking bitch—he's too f---ing stubborn, dammit, and f--- you for thinking otherwise!"

Galen was clearly taken aback by Cid's sudden tirade, and Cloud shook his head. "Relax, Cid. Galen, he's right—Vincent isn't the quitting sort. Besides, for all I know, he may already have had Jenova cells, and if so, he knows how to handle them."

Galen sighed. "I hope so. Really. Maybe it's just that I've heard the stories of what happened to those who were infected when the Calamity first arrived on the Planet. But I'll be honest—this scares the shit out of me. Hell, I'm just plain scared, at this point, knowing there may be more of them on the way."

Cid frowned. "C'mon, doc, lighten up. They ain't here yet, and every moment we have is being used to find a way to fry that bitch and all her f---in' friends. Or at least defend ourselves from her. There's still hope. You start thinkin' like that now, and the bitch has already f---in' whipped ya. Not sayin' don't be scared—bein' scared seems pretty f---in' reasonable to me. But don't just give up, either, or she may as well have her hooks in you, too."

Galen sighed, but nodded understanding, and Cloud looked at Cid. He looked haggard and just a bit scared, himself, but he was also determined. He noticed Cloud looking and nodded solemnly.

"You got important stuff to do. You go find a way to kick that bitch. I'll stay here for a while, unless they need _Highwind_ again."

Cloud nodded. He wanted to stay with his friend for a little while longer, but he thought Cid needed some time alone with the ex-TURK, at least for a little while. And besides, there might be something he could do.

"I think Sephiroth mentioned having found a few entries about Vincent a while back. They were sealed for his privacy, but maybe they'll be able to give us some more idea what's wrong with him. I'll talk to Seph and Reeve."

* * *

Cloud let the tent flap fall closed behind him as he left Reeve's 'offices.' The interim President had no problem with them opening the files on Vincent for medical purposes, but he had no idea which ones they were. Sephiroth had apparently come to them fully half a dozen times, resulting in a total of ten complete or partial files being sealed. But never once had he named any names or given any great detail. Reeve only knew that those few files were really terrible, and that Sephiroth could quote chapter and verse of Shinra policy to get them sealed. 

"Strife?" came the soft voice behind him. He turned to see Elena peeking out of the tent. She glanced back over her shoulder, saying something that was muffled by the heavy canvas, then stepped out. "How is Mr. Valentine? Will he be all right?"

Cloud shrugged a little. "We don't even know what's wrong. That's why we're trying to get into the files about him. Of course, Galen's scared that what's wrong with him is Jenova, and Cid's getting pissed off with his doom and gloom. He seemed only to be sleeping when I saw him, but I guess looks are deceptive."

She nodded seriously. "I suppose so. I hope he gets better soon."

Cloud smiled slightly at her. "Thanks, Elena"

The petite blonde shrugged a little, seemingly a little embarrassed. Her milk chocolate brown eyes darted sideways and she colored a little before muttering something about a report she had to get done and vanishing back into the tent. Weird that she was so embarrassed over showing concern for someone, especially since Cloud had seen her reunion with Tseng, complete with running mascara.

Cloud shrugged to himself—he somehow doubted he'd ever really understand any of these crazy TURKs. Even Vincent was typically enigmatic, and he was probably the person he was closest to, short of Sephiroth.

And thinking of Sephiroth, Cloud glanced at the sky to estimate the time. Even as much of a workaholic as he was, he would have left Pink Headquarters by now to run by the gym for a quick workout before working with Colonel Andrews's volunteers—whose numbers were growing by the day as the news spread to more and more of the SOLDIER population.

Cloud jogged up to the Plate, hoping to catch Sephiroth and ask him about Vincent's files before there were any prying ears around to hear. SOLDIER was typically quite discrete about such things as medical records, but Sephiroth seemed to be an object of fascination for all of them—small wonder, really, seeing as how he came back from the dead, and all. But the fact remained that even tight-lipped SOLDIERs gossiped when it came to Sephiroth. Cloud didn't want anything about Vincent or his affliction getting out, so he'd have to try to corner Sephiroth while there were no witnesses.

Fortunately, the gym was as empty as Cloud had anticipated, Sephiroth cranking out dozens of fast but perfect pushups in a corner. For someone as strong as Sephiroth, lifting his own body weight was no challenge in itself, so he did pushups in hundreds, focusing on speed and perfection of form, so what was a strength training exercise for the unenhanced became a speed drill. Cloud preferred to lift weights when he had the luxury of a gym to take advantage of, but Sephiroth pretty much despised weightlifting—something about tests to see how much he could lift when he was younger.

Sephiroth looked up at Cloud in the mirrors. "Cloud," he acknowledged, the steady rhythm of his exercise never faltering. Cloud spent a moment watching the easy ripple of muscle in Sephiroth's arms and shoulders as he worked, eyes tracing the unbending line of his back and the coil of braided hair hanging over his shoulder to pool on the floor. He shook himself out of the haze of lust that swept up on him without warning and approached.

"Hey, Seph. Got a minute?"

"Several," the pale general said, finishing one last pushup and sitting cross-legged on the mat. "What is it?"

Cloud pulled Ultima Weapon from his back and sat down himself. "Do you remember which of the files you sealed are Vincent's? We need to get into them. Reeve's given the okay, but we don't actually know which files to look in."

Sephiroth frowned. "Oh. Him again," he muttered.

Cloud bristled. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. You just talk about him a lot."

"He's sick, Sephiroth, maybe dying, maybe infected with Jenova; we don't know! He's my best friend, so of course I'm worried." Then he saw something flash across Sephiroth's face. "Holy, you're jealous! I don't believe this! Exactly what sort of person do you think I am, Sephiroth? You think I'd run around on you, is that it?"

Sephiroth scowled. "Of course not."

Cloud jumped to his feet. "Then what the hell is your problem, huh? Am I suddenly not allowed to have friends and worry about them when they're sick and injured?"

Sephiroth uttered a short, sharp bark of bitter laughter, also rising so he could glare down at Cloud. "What's my problem? What's **my** problem? What's **yours**?!?! I've tried to be patient, I've respected your wishes every damned time, but I'm getting fed up with this. Somehow, every other being on the Planet has a higher priority with you than I do, dammit, and I don't like it. I'm about to die of frustration and you're here asking me about a bunch of stupid files?!"

Cloud laughed incredulously. "That's what this is about? You're being such a bastard because I won't put out? I thought you understood that it was going to take some time—you **said** you understood!"

Sephiroth shook his head, his braid whipping across his shoulders. "I do understand, but now you understand something. I cannot take being jerked around like this anymore! I can't!"

Cloud glared into Sephiroth's burning eyes. "Well, what am I supposed to do—just lie back and take it like a man, when all I can see is my town burning, my mother lying in two pieces, and the devil with your face promising me a lifetime of servitude? You expect me to be comfortable with that?"

Sephiroth loomed over him, his eyes snapping sparks, and his teeth half-bared in a snarl of rage. Cloud realized this was the only time he'd ever even heard of Sephiroth seriously losing his temper since they'd retrieved him from Mt. Nibel.

"Then maybe," the tall man hissed through clenched teeth. "It's time for you to step outside your comfort zone."

Cloud suddenly found himself caught in strong arms, Sephiroth's unforgiving mouth pressing hard against his. Cloud struggled, but Sephiroth had a good hold on him. The whole thing was too reminiscent of the one time Sephiroth had kissed him while mad in Nibelheim—the posture was the same, the fury, Cloud's own helplessness… But it wasn't the same, because he could still feel Sephiroth there, not just the shade of Jenova wearing his skin. Even as the fear and anxiety made Cloud begin to cry, Sephiroth's lips gentled and his grip loosened, and it was suddenly all right again.

They sank to the mat, only barely mindful of the swords abandoned at their feet. Sephiroth's familiar weight pressing him to the soft surface was instantly arousing for Cloud—having the other man above him always gave him a sense of security that let him relax, even when he wasn't entirely comfortable. Feeling large hands sliding under his shirt, gentle teeth worrying at his earlobe, the slight roll of Sephiroth's pelvis that rubbed both their cloth-covered members together…it felt like it always had, really.

So. Very. Good.

Cloud moaned and started fumbling with Sephiroth's shirt, trying to get at some skin, but he was dressed for a workout, so he had a t-shirt on, not the vastly more convenient button-downs he wore most of the rest of the time. Cloud growled his frustration and gasped when Sephiroth bit down on the tender flesh of his throat, sending a bolt of heat through him. Then Sephiroth sat back for a moment, tore his shirt over his head, leaving his hair in wild disarray, and tossed the offending article across the room. Only a moment later, he had returned to feeling Cloud up, this time playing with his fly.

At this point, Cloud would have happily let him have him right there and then, except for the sound of a throat clearing pointedly. Peeling his eyes open, Cloud saw Colonel Andrews and a good dozen of the volunteers standing in the doorway. Andrews looked just a bit smug, but the volunteers were staring with no little shock.

"Perhaps you gentlemen should take this somewhere else?" Andrews asked mildly, one brow crooked and his typically solemn blue-grey eyes glittering with mirth. Sephiroth didn't so much as twitch, far too intent on driving Cloud insane with need to bother acknowledging the Colonel. Cloud, however, blushed.

"Uh…yessir! Sorry, sir!" he said, pushing at Sephiroth's shoulders. The general still wouldn't move, though, and Cloud groaned. "C'mon, Seph. Not on the mats. Let's at least get home, first."

Sephiroth finally lifted his head. His eyes were dilated hugely and his lips looked positively indecent, pink and swollen as they were. Cloud quickly squirmed out from under his soon-to-be once-again lover, gathering up Ultima Weapon and Sephiroth's discarded shirt, which had landed nearby. Sephiroth gained his feet, too, sweeping up Masamune and grabbing Cloud by the arm.

"You'll just have to do without us today, Colonel," Sephiroth said, pulling an unresisting Cloud along with him. If Andrews made any reply, Cloud didn't hear it as he was yanked through the doors and onto the street, where Sephiroth once again took his mouth in a deep kiss that imitated the act he really wanted to be performing.

How they got home, Cloud really couldn't say. Especially since they spent most of the trip locked together at the mouth, limbs twisted around each other like some exotic form of ivy. But somehow they did manage it—they didn't even lose any clothing on the way. It seemed like the moment they were in the door, their clothes evaporated, though. Certainly, Cloud was completely naked by the time Sephiroth pushed him backwards onto the bed.

Sephiroth never gave him a chance to say no, never even gave him a chance to want to. By the time they finally joined their bodies together, Cloud couldn't even remember that he'd ever tried to keep them apart.

* * *

One leg tossed over Sephiroth's hips, arms wrapped around his neck, Cloud heaved a deep sigh of contentment. He was sore and sweaty and sticky and smelly and he couldn't remember a time he'd been more perfectly happy. One of Sephiroth's hands cupped his butt possessively, a finger rubbing soothingly in the crack to ease his abused muscles. Sephiroth was actually humming softly under his breath, almost purring. Cloud recognized the sound as one the older man made when he was well and truly happy with life, not thinking about anything but the echoes of bliss still coursing through his body. 

It was funny. Sephiroth had always been so gentle in bed—passionate, but always so careful to meter his superhuman strength. It had been one of the advantages to having Zack involved in their relationship. When Sephiroth needed to really let go, there was always Zack to turn to. It had also been one of the reasons Cloud had been so looking forward to joining SOLDIER—then he could finally be a full partner to his glorious but dangerous fiancé. The idea was a little scary, though, because Cloud had seen the effects of those attentions on Zack—the day after, he would be tired and stiff, though he was always careful not to let anyone catch him limping, especially not Sephiroth himself.

Now, Sephiroth had been exactly as rough as he'd felt like being, uninhibited and powerful, and Cloud had felt his body respond in kind. It was amazing how much he could take, these days. He was sore, yes, but not hurt, and he'd begged Sephiroth more than once for more by the time the older man was finally through with him. The mere thought sent a little thrill through him.

"Well," Cloud murmured softly, still a little breathless. "That was the best lover's quarrel we've ever had." He pressed a kiss to Sephiroth's chest, listening to him chuckle softly.

"Hmm. Make-up sex," the general murmured, using the hand on Cloud's ass to guide him a little closer.

"Why was I holding out, again?"

"I burned your village, killed your mother, promised to enslave you, then insulted you and your friend. I think."

"Oh, yeah." Cloud was quiet for a moment. "So, was that seriously the reason you were being so…grr?"

Sephiroth chuckled. "'Grr?' Cute. But you can say what you mean, you know. I was being a cold, vicious, vindictive, petty asshole."

Cloud squirmed. "Well, maybe not so cold… But I do have to agree with 'asshole.' All because I wouldn't put out… You're too cranky when you're not getting any, Seph."

Sephiroth sighed. "It wasn't just the sex. It was everything between us. Right after Jenova, it seemed like we were finally getting somewhere, but then things stalled out **again**…" Sephiroth shook his head a little. "It just seemed like you didn't really want me. I mean, you wear your ring—" and Sephiroth took his hand and interlaced their fingers, rubbing the plain silver band meditatively. "But it seems like every other sign of our time together is gone."

Cloud frowned. "Signs? What else is there?"

Sephiroth blinked down at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? Cloud…"

Now Cloud was getting upset. "What? What am I missing?"

"Well, there's your anklet—the one I gave you on your birthday. Zack's Comet Materia from that same birthday is gone, too. There are subtler things, too, like how you never say hello when you come home, and barely acknowledge me when I do. We never seem to just talk, anymore. And you still haven't told me what happened while I was…away."

Cloud shook his head slowly, poking around in his head for some idea what his lover was talking about. "I—I don't—" His mind was in turmoil, frantic for answers he didn't know he'd ever had. Unbidden, the memory of his birthday rose to the surface of his mind, one of the memories reclaimed alongside the knowledge that he and Sephiroth were once engaged. Next to that, his birthday hadn't seemed important, but now he hunted for every detail.

He remembered Zack, beaming from the front of a crowd packed into the barracks, pleased with himself and his little surprise party. He remembered Zack's square, capable hands snapping a bright green Comet Materia into his bangle, jokes flying all around about not losing this one. At some point in the night, he'd snuck out onto the balcony for some quiet, listening to the soft singing of the Mako in his ears. He remembered Sephiroth coming out, remembered a kiss—their first, he realized.

He recalled laying beneath Sephiroth feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and very, very good. He shuddered at the intensity of the memory of losing his virginity, of the feel of Sephiroth's lips tracing the inside of his thigh, hearing a soft click and Sephiroth's hand warm on his ankle, his voice whispering 'happy birthday.' He remembered the feel of a cold band of metal pressing into his flesh as he wrapped his legs around Sephiroth's body. He remembered standing naked, slightly self-conscious, but very happy before Zack on the morning after—in fact, he remembered looking for Cloud and Sephiroth and finding them entwined together on the blond's bed, remembered the feeling of belonging he felt at seeing Cloud wearing his Comet Materia still and Sephiroth wearing a familiar armband…

Cloud shook his head again, carefully teasing apart the strands of memory and setting aside those that belonged to Zack. He began carefully placing each set of memories into the matrix he'd been working on for months now, making doubly sure he knew which were his and which were Zack's, and even sorting through for any fragments that might belong to Sephiroth.

"Oh. Um, I guess I sort of remember. Now."

Sephiroth looked down at him, a little worry line creasing between his brows. "Is it really that bad? I knew you were missing some memories, but I didn't realize it was quite this extensive."

Cloud grimaced. "Yeah. Sorry. I try not to think about it too much. I doubt I'll ever get it all back, and I have bits that don't even belong to me. It's just easier not to think about what a mess my head is. Better to just take what I've got and move forward."

Sephiroth was silent for a long, broody moment, his arm tightening around Cloud. "Is this…okay, then? Isn't this going backward?"

Cloud pushed up onto an elbow to stare into Sephiroth's face. "You're kidding, right? Look, I don't know where a guy as gorgeous and powerful as you gets this whole insecurity thing—well, actually, I do, but whatever. What I'm trying to say is, get **over** it! You're the best thing that ever happened to me, past or present, and I for damn sure want to extend that a long damn way into the future." He grumpily put his head back down on Sephiroth's shoulder.

Sephiroth was silent again, but he reached his arm around Cloud again and held him close. He kissed his hair and sighed. "If you can't remember everything… well, maybe that's a blessing. I love you, anyway."

Cloud smiled against the smooth skin of his lover's chest, whispering, "I love you, too." Then a thought occurred to him. "Um, at the risk of prompting another blow up, **do** you remember what files were Vincent's?"

Sephiroth nodded above him. "Of course. I'll send them to your doctor friend first thing tomorrow."

Cloud blinked and looked up at Sephiroth's face. "That was easy."

Sephiroth smiled, his brilliant eyes glowing with a light that had nothing to do with Mako. "I'm feeling magnanimous."

"What is your problem with Vincent, anyway? You don't even know him." Cloud really was curious, and if he ever wanted an answer, now was probably the best time to ask.

Sephiroth's face turned pensive. "I don't know, really. There's just something… Maybe because he knew my mother—my real mother. Or because he was there for you when I couldn't be. And I'd swear I've seen him somewhere before."

Cloud frowned. "I doubt it. He was asleep for your whole life—Hojo killed him before you were even born, and he slept until after you 'died.'"

Sephiroth shrugged. "I can't explain. It's just what I feel." The faint shadow on his features lifted suddenly, replaced by a lascivious smirk. "And speaking of feeling, I don't suppose you're feeling up to another round yet?"

"Are you kidding? I'm sore and tired and desperately in need of a shower, not to mention we have to be at Pink HQ at oh-dark-hundred tomorrow," Cloud said, then shifted to straddle his lover, playfully pinning him to the bed. "But none of those have ever stopped me from taking what I want before," he added, rubbing against Sephiroth explicitly.

Sephiroth growled, grabbing him and rolling on top of him, hands already busy on Cloud's body. Cloud laughed, leaning into the touches and jumping slightly at the cool wetness of lubricant at his sensitive entrance.

The world went away for a while, and Cloud let it go. The only important thing on it was right here, after all.

* * *

Hi, again. 

So, hopefully it was up to standards (no beta, and all). I think it's clear why I've had to bump up the rating of this fic. I just didn't want to do this any less graphically. I hope it was artful, tasteful, not gratuitous or cheesy. Yeah. Anyway, now that they're back together, as in really together, you may be wondering what I'm going to do for plot. Please. I haven't even begun to touch Jenova. In fact, I have a whole mythology worked up for her, not to mention the science. Yes, consider that a plea for you to stick around, gentle reader, despite the utter lack of cliff-hanger here. A lot of fics would end with a happily ever after right here, but I like torturing my boys too much for that. grin So a little less of the romance, and a little more of the action—the pendulum swings back the other way again, at last.

Also, I've been getting a lot of reviews wondering how I'm going to fit in characters from Advent Children and Dirge of Cerberus. Let me just reiterate--I'm not. CAN was started LOOOOONG before Square began making sequels to Final Fantasy, back when it really was final. AYCK was also started during this time period. Don't get me wrong--I LOVE Advent Children, and DoC was a good game (for more on DoC, see my lj entry about it). However, this universe was born in an AC and DoC-free world, and I'm keeping true to that. This being said, DoC handed me a ready-made explanation for something a bit later, and I've done some tweaking to accomodate that. Other bits of new canon may or may not make it in. Just don't hold your breath (I don't know CPR).

Please review! You've read this far, so it's hardly any trouble to type a few words….


	19. Council of War

Hello, all.

Well, I've been waffling over posting this part for three weeks now, and I figured it was time to stop. The few of you who may still be here after last chapter and the loooong wait…well, I thought you probably weren't going away anytime soon, so I'd better give you something for your patience. I'm not sure I'm especially happy with this part, though it needed to happen.

On a happier note—let's just add Inu Hanyou to the hall of fame as best reviewer ever. I love you, really. Also, I got a really lovely review from Some Anonymous Person (dunno if that's a cute penname or what) that really encouraged me to finally just slap this puppy up and move on. I know where this story's headed, and **I **think it's really cool, so I'm not gonna let one chapter stop me (nor my hellishly long work weeks). Actually, I got a lot of really great reviews from people on the last chapter, so I guess I can't really have a reviewer of the part. Too many to choose from! Thank you to everyone who left me something! I guess it goes for all of us doing this, but since we're not making any money, getting feedback really does keep you going when the going's rough. Thanks again to all of you.

Anayway, now that my Sappy Moment of Sentimentality ™ is over, I hope everyone enjoys reading this chapter more than I did writing it. Freakin' writer's block! (Is it any wonder I detoured into a different fandom for a while?)

* * *

Cloud was in a tremendously good mood the next morning, despite having to get up before 0400 to get ready for work and knowing he would again be facing the collection of horrors that was Project Pink. Part of that might have been being awakened early for a leisurely session of morning sex by his apparently insatiable lover. So it turned out that they were a little late in leaving despite having allowed plenty of time in their schedule. Sephiroth had bolted down his first pot of coffee so fast he'd actually complained of the scalded tongue he earned for his efforts. Of course, Cloud had made doubly sure to kiss it all better, which definitely hadn't helped to hurry them out the door.

They picked up breakfast in the mess—there was still nothing edible in the house—then ate it as they trotted down to Sector Three. Sephiroth running down the street with a bagel stuffed in his mouth, trying to simultaneously comb his hair and drink still more coffee was definitely a sight to see. Of course, he hoped Sephiroth actually managed to make his hair behave. Sephiroth on a bad hair day was Sephiroth ready for epic battle. Maybe that was the real reason Shinra won the Wutai War. The place was so damned humid, he'd probably looked like an irate chocobo, all fluffed up and glaring daggers. Sephi-bunckle!

Sephiroth gave him a funny look when he just started to laugh, for no apparent reason. And Cloud was not about to enlighten him. Sephiroth was sensitive about his hair and no way was Cloud going to risk domestic difficulties (like sleeping on the couch) with a comparison to chocobos. Besides, Cloud knew how it felt to have that particular comparison made.

His good humor didn't last long, though. By this time, almost everyone above the Plate had heard at least the rumors about the impending threat, and there was a clearly perceptible air of fear, confusion, and directionless aggression. Those left above the Plate were almost exclusively SOLDIERs, and just knowing there was something out there to fight made them twitchy—the fact that they hadn't been told about it, and certainly hadn't been directed to kill it…well, most of SOLDIER was pretty pissed. The news had even begun to trickle down to the shantytowns below. Cloud recalled with a start that Reeve had a public announcement about the matter scheduled for this afternoon. Not a task he envied.

Even in light of the slowly spreading knowledge of what was coming, the mood today seemed even grimmer than usual. Sector Three HQ was a swarming hive of activity as it had not yet been during Cloud's admittedly short stint—even Sephiroth seemed impressed. People stopped and stared as they passed. Sephiroth ignored them, or at least seemed to, but Cloud glared around at all of them, snarling slightly at any with the balls to meet his eyes.

Not that there were particularly many of those. Cloud had only been an active part of Project Pink for a short time, but already he had made himself a reputation as a scary s.o.b. who didn't take sass from anyone. Even Sephiroth. They'd had a spectacular blowup his first day on the job—over what, he couldn't remember, and he suspected it hadn't been important, even at the time, though possibly rooted in their frustrated libidos—and he'd wound up shouting the other man down in front of half the office. Now no one was willing to cross him, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. He'd taken pains to integrate into the work structure, trying to ensure people would approach him if they had to, rather than bend over backwards to avoid him. Not that he'd been there long enough to really succeed at overcoming those unfavorable first impressions, but he was trying hard.

He rather suspected he was undoing most of that work right now.

Oh, well.

Entering the warren of desks, bookshelves, and cubicles crammed together in the official Project Pink workspace, Cloud thought it would be better. After all, they were all typically too busy to waste time on something trivial like staring at the most recent object of gossip. But no—today, everyone even here stopped and stared just as those in Sector Three HQ proper had. A knot of three even stood gawping with a safe full of classified documents hanging open behind them. Surely rumors of their…indiscretion hadn't circulated so widely already, and even if they had, that just wasn't any excuse for the idiotic behavior running rampant this morning. Especially not leaving classified material unsecured! Cloud swiveled toward the three in front of the safe, feeling Sephiroth doing the same, both of them communicating in that unspoken way their intent to bite off the heads of the three offenders.

The security dunces were spared their combined wrath only by Elena poking her head out of the small conference room that was the only semi-private location in the office.

"Hey, Strife, Sephiroth! Reeve's here, and he wants to see you."

Sephiroth tossed one last glare, then turned toward the conference room. Cloud reluctantly followed.

"You **idiots!!!**" Elena bellowed suddenly behind them, producing something comparable to a dragon's roar in the enclosed space, even with all the sound-absorbent clutter. The surprising volume coming from her slight frame made Cloud look back over his shoulder to see her cornering the three lax SOLDIERs, standing toe-to-toe with three men who could each break her in half without breaking a sweat. And they were cowering.

"What in Hades do you think you're doing?! Exactly how secure do you think this place is? Half the HQ can get in here without much trouble and not a one of them has a need to know anything you keep in this safe! So when you're not actually getting something out of it, or putting something in it, you **close** the f---ing safe! Did you copy that, or do I have to draw you a diagram?"

The door bumped closed behind them, cutting off the rest of her tirade, but the sound of her irate shouting could still be heard. For a very long time. Cloud smirked in satisfaction. He was really starting to like Elena.

The smile slipped from his face as he focused on the occupants of the conference room. Reeve sat at the middle of the table, his chair turned sideways so he could look at Cloud and Sephiroth as they entered. Tseng, still in a wheelchair, sat to his left, a notebook and pen before him, and a half-open battle fan disappearing Holy-knew-where as he confirmed the identities of the new arrivals. Colonel Andrews leaned against the wall nearby, and a handful of lower officers—though none less than Captains—were ranged around the room.

A rather unassuming man in Shinra standard BDUs with the star and planet of a major general sat just down from Tseng, flanked by a lieutenant general and a colonel—clearly the heads of what remained of the army. The major general's insignia were shiny in the way of the freshly minted, and his name plate read 'O'Dell.' A large panoramic-view conference screen hanging on the wall across from Reeve's position showed a familiar Wutaian man with the twin planet insignia of a full colonel of SOLDIER—Colonel Shimo—backed by an array of lesser SOLDIERs, another Regular general, and a few civilians.

Sephiroth stopped just inside the door, then turned abruptly to poke his head out again. "You! Get me a pen and a note pad," he ordered some unseen soldier. "Stay," he continued firmly, scribbling on the pad. He tore off the top sheet and handed it to the soldier—a Regular, if the glimpse of uniform Cloud got was correct. "See to it this sealed file is couriered to Doctor Galen Hernandez at the Clinic, along with Standard Forms 327 and 702. Be quick. If anyone gives you any trouble, refer them to me." The trooper scurried off with the note, and Sephiroth pulled back into the room. He glanced at Cloud. "A promise is a promise."

Cloud smiled. "Thanks."

Sephiroth half-shrugged before refocusing his attention on the conference they had just been roped into. Cloud followed suit.

Reeve was first to break the silence. "Good morning, Cloud. Sephiroth." He bobbed a courteous nod at them. "How are you today?"

Sephiroth snorted. "Fine, except for being stared at like bugs under a microscope by all and sundry, and the little matter of being called into a conference with what looks like every person of military importance in both Junon and Midgar with no warning."

Reeve smiled a little uncomfortably. "Yeah, sorry about that but…" His face grew grim. "Something's come up."

Andrews pushed off the wall and flicked on a panel set into the table. A little cursor arrow appeared on a Shinra-standard computer desktop background with classification icons on it. Andrews navigated the arrow to a file, clicked it open, and started up a presentation.

"You getting this in Junon?" he asked.

"Yes," Colonel Shimo responded.

Andrews nodded and somberly turned to those in the room. "Two hours ago, a monitoring station on the South Icicle Islands noted a disturbance in the local wildlife. About a dozen Vlakorados essentially stampeded the station."

"Vlakorados?" Cloud wondered, recalling the large red creatures. "I've never seen more than one of them at a time. Good thing, too, because they're really aggressive."

Andrews nodded. "They are both solitary and aggressive. Which makes their large numbers and the fact that they didn't attack anybody highly unusual. Only about a half-hour after that, the station reported seeing an unfamiliar monster. Feminine in body, slimy, with tentacles, and everything she touched either died or began behaving strangely."

Cloud hissed and flinched, his flesh crawling. Beside him, as cool as ever and betraying none of the turmoil he must have been feeling, Sephiroth merely folded his arms over his chest and stared levelly at Andrews.

"Jenova."

The word hung in the air like the odor of a decaying corpse, putrid and lingering. Everyone seemed nauseated by the simple flat statement of her name. Silence reigned.

Just as the stillness was becoming unbearable, Elena entered the room with a self-satisfied smirk. She stopped, the door bumping shut behind her, as she caught the mood in the room.

"Geeze, people, lighten up. It's just Jenova. We knew we were going to have to fight her sometime. All the better she's decided to come to us before her brethren get here. It'll be like a practice run."

"Yeah, that'd be great, Elena," Cloud muttered. "Except we don't have anything **to** practice."

"Oh." The petite blonde deflated.

Andrews cleared his throat. "According to our estimates, if she left the Forgotten Capital roughly the same time Mr. Valentine did, traveled at a constant rate, and continues to travel at that same rate, we have approximately one week until she reaches Midgar, if she takes a least time path. So we have that long to think of something."

/_Why is it always a week?_/ Cloud thought, a little hysterically. /_Meteor was a week, too._/

Sephiroth was still infuriatingly calm, though. "An awful lot of assumptions, Colonel."

Andrews tilted his chin up, meeting the Mako green gaze fearlessly. "True. But it's the best we can do."

"It'll have to be good enough," Reeve interjected. "I…put off making the announcement of Jenova's return too long. I feared panic. Now, there really will be panic. But we have to do our best. Toward that end, I have called all of you together today. We have to figure out how to defend Midgar."

"I suppose evacuation isn't an option," Andrews murmured contemplatively. "People already did what running they were going to do with Meteor—now that that's over and they've begun to rebuild, they'll hold on to what little they have all the more tightly. Not to mention that if Midgar falls, there's really no place left on the northern half of the continent from which we can strike back at her. We'd lose half a continent just like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

"So we fight," Sephiroth intoned. "Then the first thing we must do is make Midgar defensible. The ruins themselves are pretty difficult terrain and ought to deter attack, but we don't want to be fighting right in them. They're too unstable, and we'd just be giving Jenova the advantage, since she can communicate instantly with those under her control and use them as her eyes and ears, so they don't need to be organized to be effective. We do."

"Defenses outside the city itself, then," Reeve said. "That's not an issue to the south—the mountains are there and they are rather defensible to my admittedly civilian mind. But most of the city is surrounded by the Wasteland. It's not a terribly hospitable place, but it's not nearly as difficult as it looks."

"Amounts to flat ground," Regular Major General O'Dell said. "We ran some simulations and a couple war games out there, so we have some idea of what needs to be done to make at least parts of it into terrain to our advantage. Of course, our war games were mostly focused on threats like Wutai. Small in numbers, difficult to defeat, disciplined, but just as vulnerable to the elements and fear and poor logistics as the rest of the human race. This Jenova…thing…moves in unknown force of mixed elements, living off the land—apparently literally—and brings some of the most fearsome creatures of the north with her. I don't think the sims will be too applicable here."

"But how do we defend a city as large as Midgar on three sides?" Andrews asked scowling.

"We don't," Cloud shrugged. "We can't. But we can defend ourselves more locally, and we can guess where she's going to strike, especially since she doesn't seem terribly interested in hiding her movements. She's not going to come from the south or east; that's almost certain. And I don't think she'll come from too northerly a direction, at least not if Midgar is her objective. If she comes from the north, we'll know from the smoke of Kalm burning."

O'Dell blinked and looked at Cloud as if just seeing him for the first time, despite the numerous comments he'd already made. "And you are…?"

"Lieutenant of SOLDIER Cloud Strife, Sir."

The Major General frowned slightly, glancing at Andrews and Reeve. "And why do we have a mere lieutenant making strong suggestions in an upper-level council of war?" His tone wasn't condescending or anything, just asking a question. A valid one, too, since no one else here was less than a captain, and even they were essentially taking notes for those of greater rank, certainly not proposing plans for Midgar's defense.

Reeve spoke up. "Cloud embodies almost one half of our combined expertise with Jenova—Sephiroth being most of the other half. Cloud is also the one who saved us from Meteor. I suppose you missed that press conference."

O'Dell blinked and looked again more closely at Cloud, who flushed. "That's not true, sir. Holy stopped Meteor, and Aeris summoned Holy. I just helped remove obstacles to Holy's action."

"By which he means defeating an insane clone of Sephiroth—twice," Reeve added smoothly.

Cloud glared at Reeve, not entirely comfortable with the man inflating his worth to…well, the whole remaining Shinra military establishment. For that reason, he kept his correction of "Three times," to a low mutter. "Look, sirs," he said more loudly. "I just know a little bit about Jenova. I'm still only a lieutenant, though, so anything I say is just a suggestion."

The Major General looked him over once more, then nodded. "All right, so you're a subject matter expert. I'll buy that." Everyone was silent for a moment, then O'Dell spoke again. "So we…what? Build a wall around Midgar from Kalm to the sea? Mister, if you can do that, why the hell don't you have a combat engineer's badges?"

Sephiroth and Cloud shook their heads simultaneously.

"Not a wall…"

"…Trenches."

Andrews sucked in a breath. "Trenches? Are you crazy?" Both men looked back at him calmly, eyebrows identically raised as if to say 'Well…yeah. Didn't you get the memo?' The Colonel seemed to catch on to his little misstep and rolled his eyes in a gesture that reminded Cloud strongly of Zack. "Okay, I stepped right on that one. But both of you went to Wutai, and you saw what happened in those trenches. They slaughtered us."

"Yes," Shimo said serenely from Junon. "But we were the invaders then. Now we will be the defenders. The lead-up to the Battle of Meteor Rain resulted in Shinra troops occupying trenches and letting the rebels grind themselves to nothing against fortified positions, so we know it can be done. Though that's still a lot of digging to be done."

"Remove all teams and heavy machinery from working on Midgar until this is done," Cloud suggested. "It won't appreciably alter how long it takes us to rebuild, but we're going to need the manpower to get those defenses up."

"Probably true," O'Dell said. "But who's going to be fighting in these trenches? I know most of SOLDIER stuck it out, but eighty percent of the Regular Army took off for their homes and families during the Meteor crisis. Some have come back, but many are still at home helping rebuild. Enlistment is up since people automatically get food and a roof over their heads with us, but that just means we have a lot of untrained, half-trained, and inexperienced troops."

"We made it work at Xi-Fe-Xiu—we'll make it work here," Cloud stated flatly. "I would suggest getting anyone with experience in the War or the Uprising reoutfitted immediately. Everyone else can draw their issue at a later date—we do have a week to work with, though we'll be slowed down by the damage to the information systems."

"There's also the matter of the militia," Andrews added, staring levelly at Reeve. "I'm sure you don't want to endanger our civilians, and the militia isn't much more than that, right now. Still, they have some training, and they're dead set on defending their homes. We could use them as an inner ring of defenses. Most of the civilians are living in the shantytowns, right now, and those back against the ruins. We'll string the militia units around the 'towns, then if there's a break in the line somewhere, there's **someone** between Jenova and the civilians."

"In fact," Cloud offered. "Find anyone in SOLDIER or the Regulars who has experience working with militias and drop them into leadership and advisory positions with the militia, so if it comes to it they have some cohesion. You might delay the reissue to those troops, though—hopefully they won't be needed, and those who definitely will be on the front lines need all the best equipment."

O'Dell frowned. "If we plan to build only partial defenses, we'll have to have some idea where they need to be." He looked at Cloud. "So, in your expert opinion, where do you think Jenova will strike from?"

Cloud frowned slightly, then glanced at Colonel Andrews. "Sir, would you please pull up a map of the Midgar area?" The map came up and Cloud cocked his head at the image. "Zoom it out until we can see Bone Village." He studied the new map thoughtfully, tilting his head and brushing his spiky bangs out of his face as he leaned close.

"Well, there are two ways she can come across—straight through the water, or island-hopping."

"The water way's faster…" Sephiroth murmured. "She may be trying to get here before we get defenses in place, since she obviously has to anticipate that Valentine sent up the alarm after his encounter with her."

"But she's never been one for the least complicated path, and her greatest power is in the creatures she can control," Cloud pointed out. "If she wants to build her army, island-hopping is the way to go. Either way, though, the best place to make continental landfall is on this beach here." He pointed to a long stretch of rather nice beach almost directly northwest of Midgar. "It's very nearly a straight shot from Bone Village, and there are a number of small islands nearby if she's sticking close to land. The water's pretty shallow all along the stretch between the Northern Continent and Midgar, and this is a nice easy incline to just walk up to the city."

"What about this peninsula here?" Sephiroth asked, tapping the skinny finger of land at the far western side of the beach. "It points directly out to the Icicle Islands and is close enough to that straight line path to be practical."

"A possibility," Cloud conceded. "Though I think the cliffs are too steep for any attack in force to be successful. Of course, no telling what she's got in her army, or how much modification she can manage in the time she's got. Those cliffs could be easily traversable for her. Still," he shrugged. "It's within a reasonable distance of the rest of the beach, so if we defend one, we essentially defend the other. So to answer your question, Sir," he looked at the slightly bemused Regular general. "I'd put her landfall somewhere in the arc between this peninsula—" he pointed to Sephiroth's suggested landing point, then swept his hand in a smooth arc to the sharp protuberance that anchored the other end of the beach, not sharp enough to be a peninsula, but a noticeable landmark. "And this point." He frowned again, looking further inland.

"Actually, that southern peninsula and that end of the beach aren't such a bad idea, really, from her perspective. A straight march toward Midgar from most of the beach forces her to navigate this set of cliffs, here." He pointed to the steep formation midway between Midgar and the borders of the Wasteland. "But the more southerly parts of the beach and that peninsula are unobstructed."

"Well, that gives us a little bit of natural help then," Tseng commented solemnly. "We can expend a little bit of effort making those cliffs more of an obstacle, then focus on building trenches to anchor the ends and especially block that peninsula."

"We also have another potential advantage if she does attempt to attack from that direction," Shimo said. "Two, actually. Firstly, the incomplete Sector Eight and the completely destroyed Sector Seven are two of the sectors of the city roughly in line with any thrust she makes. Neither is populated, and neither has a shantytown nearby where displaced residents have gathered. Secondly, if she does come that way, we in Junon may be able to flank her, possibly even catch her in a pincer, if we time things right. It would involve coming over the mountains via the coastal and sub-coastal roads, and they weren't in the best repair, last I saw, but it's doable. The inland road and the south extension of the Highway might even be options for reinforcing your forces from the rear—that is, through the city itself."

"True," O'Dell rumbled contemplatively. "But with all these advantages available to us if she picks this route, **will** she pick this route? Surely she must have some idea of our defenses and our options—all the information I've seen about her indicates that she's intelligent and ruthless. Does she know enough about us to avoid this would-be pincer attack?"

Cloud nodded decisively. "Yes. But for some reason, I'm sure this is on target." Cloud frowned to himself. "I wish I could explain why I'm sure, but…"

"Maybe I can help," Sephiroth interrupted smoothly. "Having been her puppet for a time, I think I may be able to shed some light on how she thinks." He frowned a little, then took over the computer display from Andrews, who relinquished it gracefully. Sephiroth brought the zoom back in to only large enough to frame Midgar and the surrounding shantytowns.

"First and foremost is that she's on her way **now**. That means something has spurred her to action. She is ancient and patient—she can afford to wait centuries, if she must. But her actions recently—taking over me and torching Nibelheim, calling the Clones to Reunion, summoning Meteor, and now attacking directly after Meteor failed—these all indicate that she feels…pressured somehow. I'm not sure of the cause, but I can feel it myself, vaguely. Something about the Planet…" He shook his head as if to clear it.

"Anyway," he continued. "Once she decides to take action, and no one can doubt she has, she prefers to deal swiftly and decisively. Navigating around Midgar is not something she will feel she has time to do. Nor something she will consider it necessary to do. She has always had little regard for the power of humans, so she won't think we pose much threat. And she has a point. Even the Cetra couldn't kill her—what hope have we?" Sephiroth didn't even listen to the weak reflexive protests that rose around the room at that, pushing on despite them.

"Besides, she has plenty of targets on this side of the ruins. Sectors Seven and Eight may be ghost towns, if even that, but that has its own appeal, doesn't it? Less resistance getting to the center of the city. Anything she finds in the tower could be useful, and there's always Reactor Zero, which at latest report was still functional, and the SOLDIERs down there are…a completely different breed than most. They're the ones that progressed too far in the program for Shinra to just let them go, but who had fundamental failings that made them unsuitable for most standard SOLDIER field duties. Many are horribly mutated, psychologically unstable, even conscripts who failed not due any problems on their part, but because they refused to serve Shinra. If she could gain access to them…"

Andrews shuddered. "That's not an army I want to see coming at me any time soon. I've spoken to a few of them over the course of my career, and they seem normal a lot of the time, but they're…**more** than most SOLDIERs are, or could ever be. They just lack leadership to form them into a coherent fighting unit—not to mention the wish to **be** a fighting unit. They mostly don't like Shinra, and they don't like normal people, since in many cases, their normalcy was forcibly stripped from them. If Jenova could somehow reach out to them and be a figure of respect and authority for them, a rallying point against all the injustices the world holds for those poor bastards…"

Sephiroth nodded. "Quite. And I suspect that in some cases their insanity may be due to being put through, not the usual SOLDIER treatments, but Jenova-based experiments."

Cloud shivered. "But they can't have any particularly high levels of Jenova cells, right? Otherwise they'd have been at the Reunion."

"Not necessarily. That place—Deepground—is sealed off from the outside world. It's possible that there were some Called who could not escape to come. What that could have done to their mental states, I'm not sure I want to speculate."

Reeve scowled. "I never knew what they did with that section of the city. It was really just a little space at the base of the tower where it would touch the ground, except it was designed never to touch. Mako Reactor 0 was in place as a back-up for the tower, but the rest of the space? If I'd known what Hojo was keeping there…"

"You'd probably be dead," Sephiroth said quietly. "He didn't like to have people know his secrets, and make no mistake—Deepground was one. Upper level SOLDIERs knew, since we occasionally had to work with the residents. Not since the War, though." He frowned thoughtfully, then shook his head.

"To get back to Jenova, yes, Deepground and the tower may be objectives, but there's a far more powerful lure for her on this side of the city—or, there will be when she comes. That's Cloud and me. She won't pass us by. For some reason, she does not want us together, apparently because we represent some sort of threat to her. If we deploy together, she may just be wary enough to turn aside and try an attack from the rear. But if we're both on this side of the city, but **separated**, she may take the opportunity to kill one or the other of us."

Andrews crooked a brow. "Using yourself as bait? Risky. And I'm not sure I approve of using the Lieutenant in such a manner."

"I don't mind, Sir," Cloud chimed. "I'd be a target for her anyway, and if we can use the fact that she'll come for me to our advantage, so much the better. While I'd like to fight **beside** Sephiroth finally, I guess actually being on the same side for once will do."

Andrews gazed frankly at him, evaluating him. Finally, he nodded slightly. "Very well. In honesty, there's no way we can afford to hold you back from the front, even if it does make you a more prominent target. You're an officer of SOLDIER now, and one of the very few people with any experience against Jenova. We'll just have to keep an eye out if she seems to be trying to take you out."

Cloud nodded. "I understand, sir. Can we get any more reinforcements?"

Shimo shook his head. "I'll be sending all I reasonably can already, and it would take too long for anyone else to get here. Anyone from Costa del Sol would have to pass through the same routes as us anyway, and the roads will be packed as it is. I suppose a force could be sent from Fort Condor—if we had any forces left in the area. We have practically nothing of military significance on the Northern Continent, and the peace with Wutai is fragile enough without asking them to send troops they don't really have to come fight **our** battles, even if they could make it here in time."

Cloud frowned. "Will we be gathering all the civilians together, or leaving them all in their sector 'towns? It may be smart to gather them together—if they're concentrated, we can concentrate our defenses, too. Though it may be hard to get them to leave even their temporary homes. And if we **fail**…" He shuddered at the thought of all those helpless civilians in the path of Jenova's wrath.

"A problem military commanders have been facing for generations," Shimo murmured contemplatively. "In order to protect someone, you must have them near enough for you to assure their safety. Yet, when they are that close, your failure inevitably takes them with you."

"So how do you get around it, sir?" Cloud asked.

"You don't," Andrews replied. "You do your best to make sure you don't fail, and make back-up plans, just in case you do."

To Cloud, that sounded a lot like what he'd been doing since taking over AVALANCHE—which meant it was probably just as stressful. He'd never been too comfortable with leading. After all, who was he to be telling these people what to do and where to go? He was screwed up in the head, socially awkward, and had no more experience as a leader than any of the others—less, even, than Barret or Cid. He'd even entertained thoughts of getting out of it, especially right after Aeris died and he was left reevaluating everything he knew about himself and his motivations.

But despite all his shortcomings and fears, he'd continued on. To this day, he was unsure if it was determination, obligation, or the Call to Reunion that drove him on in those dark days…only months ago, though it seemed a lifetime. Over that gap of time it seemed all memory had faded a little, the colors leeched and the sounds muffled in his mind. Yet, one thing that remained clear was the desperate terror he'd felt when teetering at the edge of his sanity, lives hanging in the balance, in the middle of a dangerous situation, with the warriors of AVALANCHE looking to him to make the decisions. What if he chose wrong? What if he screwed up…again? What if someone was hurt or killed because he made the wrong choice (like Aeris had been)? What would happen if they failed (and he'd always been a failure, hadn't he)? What if, what if, whatifwhatifwhatif…?

Cloud shook his head forcefully to clear it, shuddering at the memories, before becoming aware of a firm hand on his shoulder and looking up. Sephiroth was looking down at him in concern, a small frown touching the corners of his mouth. Cloud sighed and attempted to muster a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. I'm okay. I guess I just didn't realize how much I hated leading AVALANCHE until just now. Damn, you'd have to be nuts to follow me around the block, much less into battle against Shinra, Jenova, and you."

Sephiroth smiled slightly, and Cloud could see the thought in his eyes, _I'd follow you anywhere_, though the other man refrained from saying it. Instead he said. "Don't worry, Cloud. This time we're on the same side, and there are plenty of others to take the weight. Why don't you go look for any last minute solutions to the whole Jenova problem? I don't think there's anything left for you to do here. Now it's really just a matter of working out the details. Just make sure someone knows where you are if we do need you again."

Cloud smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I will. If it's okay?" He looked to Andrews and Reeve to be sure. Reeve nodded immediately, though his eyes were thoughtfully narrowed, flicking between Cloud and Sephiroth. Cloud knew Reeve was a sharp customer and could see him adding things up, computer-like—one plus one is two; two plus two is four; Cloud plus Sephiroth is CloudandSephiroth which asymptotically approaches Armageddon in its negative domain and hot-man-sex in the positive.

Crap. He'd have to find time to talk to Reeve soon. Or really, all of AVALANCHE. Now that he and Sephiroth had regained some level of their former closeness, the others deserved to know. He'd have to ask Sephiroth how he felt about once again having Tifa ready to kill him, because for damn sure she wasn't going to just leave them be. Maybe he could just drop the bomb and run…? Nah, he wasn't a total asshole, and he definitely wasn't a coward. Tifa was a good friend and deserved better.

Even if she did creep him out sometimes.

Andrews had also nodded, his eyes glinting knowingly at the two of them. After their display yesterday, he probably knew rather more about their love life than Cloud was entirely sure he wanted his superior officer to know. Cloud therefore felt a little uncomfortable, but the Colonel seemed unconcerned.

"Go on, Strife," the man said. "This is all upper-level stuff now, so you don't have to be here for this. But if you think of anything else, make sure you tell us. I'll let Sephiroth keep you informed as to what our strategy is. I'm sure the two of you are also worried about last night's incident. Don't be. I did some damage control, and I think we all understand the need for a certain level of discretion. Just don't let it happen again, or I might not be able to keep things quiet."

"What about last night?" Reeve queried, and Cloud wanted to throttle Andrews for bringing that up in front of the whole military establishment.

Andrews waved a dismissive hand. "It looked like a roomie-fight that got out of hand, to me." He looked at O'Dell. "Cloud's been living with Sephiroth since he was returned to us, to keep an eye on him. Really, he's the only one with a chance of stopping him if he gets out of line again. I don't know what caused the original altercation, but by the time I got there, things had progressed to the unarmed, rolling on the floor, grappling stage. I wouldn't be too surprised if some garbled version of events made it out anyway, though." He rolled his eyes expressively. "You know how soldiers get without a war to fight—aggressive, sex-crazed, gossip mongers."

"Looks like we have a war all lined up for them, though," O'Dell replied with a wry little smile. "I trust you gentlemen worked things out."

Sephiroth nodded soberly. "I can't promise it won't happen again, but we went home and had a nice, long…discussion about the matter. Cloud was quite eloquent on the topic, and I think I've come to know him a little better."

Cloud was mentally gaping at how both Sephiroth and Colonel Andrews had just managed to tell everyone what happened in vague enough terms that it sounded like anything had happened but Sephiroth getting caught with his hand down Cloud's pants in the middle of the gym. And no outright lies had yet been spoken! O'Dell looked to him for a response, and Cloud ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Um, yeah. Sir. We're okay now."

"Good to hear," Shimo chimed unexpectedly. Cloud had forgotten about the other group listening to their conversation and burned with mortification. One glance at Shimo told him that the Wutaian SOLDIER had figured out at least the broad strokes of what had really happened. Cloud flushed and bobbed his head in a little bow.

"I'll just…get to work, shall I?" he suggested, inching toward the door.

"Dismissed, SOLDIER," Andrews said. "And remember to let us know if you think of anything useful, Mr. Meteor Rain."

Cloud fled the room before Andrews could inflate his importance any further. It was freaking embarrassing! Why **had** he pulled so many attention-grabbing stunts, anyway? If he'd known he'd never live them down...

* * *

Hi, again.

Not much more to say about this one. Long, which I'm sure is appreciated, but there were only a few bits in there that I really feel happy with. I'd really like to get some comments on this one. I had to move the plot along, and I meant for most of this to happen, but…ugh. For some reason I'm not happy with it. Fortunately, the next part isn't disgusting me quite as much.

As usual, please leave me comments and questions with the cute little button below. I'd love to hear from you!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	20. Fear and Hope

Hello!

Okay, slightly shorter wait than last time, so this is good. This chapter is a little slow, but not so bad as last time. I'd like to thank all my reviewers for your wonderful comments. It seems that, between you all, you managed to pick up on every little piece of the chapter I **did** like, then pick the bits I hated and make them seem not so bad. Thanks a lot.

So yeah, feeling a little better about this part. I've had bits of it in the works since _Chi to Ase to Namida_, not that that's too important. I'm just relieved to finally reintroduce a character I always intended to be important, but whom I'm sure everyone's forgotten. dances Besides, this is Chapter 20! Majorly good juju in reaching a number like 20. (Though 19 was prime, and therefore destined for greatness… Hmm. Let me add, that I was very surprised and gratified by the positive response to my geeky little math joke.)

Anyway, nothing more to add (at least until the notes at the end ), so enjoy!

* * *

Cloud scrubbed his hands over his face, blinking blearily at the papers in front of him, spread over the empty bed in Vincent's hospital room. The non-stop noise of Pink Headquarters had finally driven him away after three hours of effort. In those three hours, he'd seen Elena dart in and out at least a dozen times, Rude and Reno amble in and scurry out, dozens of messengers running about like Confused chocobos, and at least one enterprising reporter getting dragged out of the building by two very torqued-off SOLDIERs.

When Cid had called him over the still-uncertain PHS network to ask him to watch Vincent for a while, Cloud had gratefully gathered up a laptop, several discs of data, and a huge stack of research papers, stuffed them in a secure transport container, and gotten the hell out of the madhouse the place had become. Why Reeve had chosen to do things at Pink HQ and not somewhere else, anywhere else, was a mystery to Cloud. So he'd left a note on Sephiroth's desk and another with reception, and headed out (read: fled).

Now, after several more hours poring over the documents he'd brought with him, his eyes were crossing with the strain, and he was in desperate need of caffeine. He missed the days when a cup or two of coffee was all it took to get him going. Especially since the stuff was so nasty. And there was only so much cola one could drink.

He stood and paced for a few minutes around the room, hoping that getting a little blood flowing would help. He idly flicked on the radio—since the television was still a mess of static—and blinked when he heard Reeve's voice issuing from the speakers. A glance at the wall clock confirmed the time for him. Later than he'd thought, and definitely time for Reeve's speech.

_"—And so you know the basic events of the world's Meteor crisis._

_"Ever since, we have been rebuilding our homes and our lives. However, our peace is again threatened. Jenova, the Calamity, has returned. She is headed here, with an army of monsters, thinking to destroy all we have worked so hard to build. Anyone who wishes to should evacuate, however AVALANCHE, SOLDIER, and what remains of Shinra will stay and fight. We have retrieved Sephiroth—the real, sane one—from retirement to help. Using his knowledge of Jenova and our own ingenuity, we will fight to defend Midgar. It may not be much anymore, but it's home."_

Cloud sighed. Once again, it was back to fighting. He wished fervently that Jenova would just **give up**, already. How many more times would they have to kick her freaky alien ass for her to realize that she wasn't going to be able to take this planet from its inhabitants? If only there was some way to put her down for good… But if there was, Cloud was beginning to think it had died with the Cetra civilization. It certainly wasn't in any of **these** papers, and with the number of people working on the Project, surely someone would have seen **something** by now!

_"I would ask that everyone remain calm and not panic,"_ Reeve's voice continued over the radio. Cloud suppressed a snort—he wasn't panicking, even though he **knew** he was entitled to. Rather, he was frustrated almost to the point of tears, but he knew if he started, he wouldn't stop, so he forbore. _"We have a week to prepare. Anyone who is leaving Midgar, please do so quickly. Take only what you need to get to Kalm, Healin, or one of the other small towns in the area, then head east toward the Mythril Mines._

_"For those who are staying—in the next two to three days, we will be asking you to leave your shelters and relocate to a location we are preparing near the edge of Sector Six. You will not be forced to move, but we will also not extend our protection over you. Midgar is too large for us to completely defend, so we choose to gather the most important part of Midgar—its people—where we can keep them safe._

_"If you belong to one of the sector militias, you will be asked to protect your neighbors in case of emergency, and to help them relocate. Your unit commanders will have more specific orders for you in the next few hours. I know this isn't what you signed on for, but your courage and dedication is an example from which we can all learn, and an inspiration. I humbly thank you for your service._

_"Finally, to the armed forces of Shinra."_ Cloud looked up from scowling at the papers that refused to offer up any answers, his full attention fixed on the radio. Reeve, as President, Commander-in-Chief, his leader, was addressing him. _"Your commanders will have orders for you shortly. You will be asked to fight and possibly die in defense of the people of Midgar. It is a heavy duty, one that has been asked of soldiers throughout history. Your sacrifices are staggering, and there is no way they can ever be repaid. I feel terrible for having to ask it of you, but ask I do, for all our sakes. I know you will fight with courage and strength. You will fight for the people of Midgar—your friends and families, your homes, and the people in your care. You will fight for yourselves and your fellow soldiers. And those of us who cannot fight will do all we can to support you. You also have my thanks for your service. Fight hard and die harder._

_"To everyone. Jenova is a threat to the Planet itself. She wiped out the Ancients and caused Meteor to be summoned, and now she turns her attention to us. We will show her exactly how misplaced her confidence is. We will fight her with every bit of strength in us, every drop of blood, and every weapon at our disposal. It is true that no single human can defeat her—human beings are frail creatures, weak and sometimes frightened. But together, we are a force to be reckoned with. Together, we will have victory."_

There was a silence, then the clamor of reporters trying to get in a few questions as Reeve apparently left the podium. Only one, shouted over the others, grabbed Cloud's attention. _"But Mister President, why can't AVALANCHE just save us again?"_ Everything went silent for a moment, and Reeve's voice returned.

_"I believe there was a question—'why can't AVALANCHE save us?' Number one, AVALANCHE at its peak numbered nine. No matter how skilled and powerful the members of AVALANCHE may be, nine people cannot fight an army._

_"Second—you damned coward!"_ Gasps erupted from those attending, but Reeve bulled on regardless._ "How can you expect people to lay down their lives for you if you are unwilling to do your part in return? Yes, AVALANCHE saved the Planet from Meteor, but if you are unwilling to do your part to safeguard the life their efforts won you, then you don't deserve it. What kind of weak, bleating baby are you to cry for someone to save you when you have the power to do it yourself? What kind of man are you if you will not stand up even for yourself, much less those around you?_

_"AVALANCHE will be part of the fight, make no mistake. And they will be valuable assets. However, many now have other obligations, other duties and responsibilities. One is a member of SOLDIER—" _Cloud twitched at the reference to him. _"One is and has long been a member of Shinra's Air Force. One is a princess of Wutai, and well within her rights to leave Shinra to swing. Two are members of a local militia."_ Cloud thought those two must be Tifa and Barret, since they were the only two attached enough to the city itself to join. Not to mention, Tifa had offered to organize groups to hunt monsters, out of which most of the militias had formed—they certainly hadn't existed under Shinra!

Reeve continued. _"And I am now your President."_ There was a roar from the attending press and small audience. Reeve's involvement with AVALANCHE was not widely known—well, it was now—and obviously the crowd was shocked. Of course, most of the press probably knew, at least if they'd attended the post-Meteor press conference, but since no transmitting media were functional at the time, and printing facilities were limited, the identities of AVALANCHE's members still remained largely unknown.

When the crowd finally quieted, Reeve carried on. _"Yes, I was involved with AVALANCHE in saving the world—as ridiculous as that sounds. Now we all have parts to play in defending Midgar, and I know we will all do our best. Between AVALANCHE and Sephiroth, we should have plenty of unusually strong and talented individuals to help out with all aspects of the defense. Even if no one else could fight, we would be out there trying our best._

_"But the rest of you can fight, or contribute in some other way. We did not fight for you just so that you would never fight for yourselves. We fought because at the time no one else could fight the sort of battle we were waging. We fought because no one else knew there was fighting to be done. But this is a fight for all of Midgar, maybe all of humanity, and we cannot win alone._

_"As I said, orders for militia and military personnel will be handed down in the next hours or by morning at the latest. Everyone else should prepare to move or leave. If you will not contribute to the defense of Midgar, I sincerely hope you leave. We don't need you dragging the rest of us down. Good night."_

Reeve again left the podium in silence, only this time it wasn't filled almost immediately with chattering reporters. No wonder—Reeve had certainly stepped on the one guy pretty harshly. Cloud clicked off the radio as the commentators came on—he had no interest in being told what to think about what was said. Especially since it was such a simple speech. Reeve told them they were in trouble, gave general orders, told them to expect more detailed orders shortly, then wished them well. The only kink in the straightforward speech was the one question to which he responded, and Cloud entirely approved of Reeve verbally attacking that cowardly reporter. "Why can't AVALANCHE save us" indeed!

A light knock on the door prompted Cloud to close his laptop and stuff his loose papers back in their carrying case before he unlocked the door. Galen smiled wanly at him as he motioned him in, closing the door behind him.

"Well," the doctor murmured as he examined the monitors hooked up to Vincent's vital stats with forced nonchalance. "Now I know what you were so stressed out about. Jenova is coming here." Even in his lab coat, the redheaded doctor shivered. Cloud frowned and reached to put a hand on one of his friend's shaking shoulders.

"Hey, don't worry about it. We know she's coming and we're going to do our best against her. And you always have the option of getting out of here. I bet they'd love to have you in Healin."

Galen shook his head emphatically. "No, I can't go. I have patients to look after. Not to mention that I have to somehow keep Jamie out of trouble. I just…" He laughed bitterly. "Holy, being the only one around here who really has any idea just how terrible her Virus could be is just not fair. I'm terrified. Really truly petrified with fear, but I know my duty is to be here."

Cloud looped an arm around Galen's shoulders, and the taller man turned to him and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Dampness followed a moment later as the Cetra let out his terror and helplessness in the form of tears. Cloud just held him and let him cry. He wouldn't lie to Galen about their chances—sure, they'd do their best, but it really was dependent on how big an army she gathered. If they could get through the cannon fodder quickly enough and concentrate on her, they might even win. If they couldn't…

Well, Galen's terror was understandable. He was no soldier, but he had some idea of the horrors that waited in event of failure. Further, the Planet was probably beginning to grow distressed by the Calamity's movements. It couldn't be easy being a Cetra in these times. Cloud wondered how Reno was holding up. And Tseng and Taka. Certainly the two TURKs had seemed about as expected earlier, but Cloud didn't actually know them all that well, and they **were** trained to keep secret things secret. Whether those secrets were where the bodies were buried or how piss-on-themselves terrified they were, it probably didn't matter much.

"Ha," Cloud grunted to himself. "TURKs and their secrets." He cast a wry glance at the still form of Vincent only a few feet away. "I bet you could give us some insight, huh? Unfortunately, we have to puzzle out your secrets first. Fat chance," he snorted indelicately, then did a double take as he noticed that Vincent's bright scarlet eyes were open. "Vincent!"

Red eyes swept up to his face, strangely unfocused, then Vincent smiled at him. Cloud was one of a handful of living people who had seen Vincent's smile before, so he knew this was not it. Galen, however, didn't immediately notice anything amiss.

"How do you feel?" he asked, stepping out of Cloud's arms to take a pulse even as he dashed tears from his eyes, but Vincent sat up, pulling his flesh arm out of Galen's reach. He sat almost demurely on the edge of the bed, toes pointed inward, hands in his lap, but his blood-colored eyes were fixed boldly—almost defiantly—on Cloud's face. His expression was familiar, though with the differences in underlying bone structure, it took several moments for Cloud to place it. It was the same look Aeris often wore, outwardly proper and polite, but fierce, too. That strength had led her into battle time and again, had enabled her to survive in the slums of Midgar, had taken her to the altar to call Holy and die.

Voice shaking, Cloud whispered her name, not quite believing, but **hoping**. But Vincent shook his head—or rather, whoever was inside Vincent did—and Cloud paused. "Miss Ifalna?" There was no response, but there was also no negative shake of the head. Ifalna, then.

"What are you doing here?" Galen asked. "The dead stay dead. The dead return to the Planet and become new life. Why are you interfering with the living?"

Ifalna studied the redhead, then smiled slightly and held up Vincent's mechanical left arm.

"Holy," Cloud murmured. "Most of your soul is in that Materia. You never did really move on completely, did you? Dying, you transferred what was left of your soul into your Materia. You stayed by Aeris's side all her life, and helped us to save the Planet. But still, what are you doing to Vincent? Is he…okay?"

She cocked Vincent's head at him, still smiling, and rose from the bed. She walked toward him, arms outstretched as if to embrace him. Her gait was a little unsteady, and it was obvious that she was struggling with limbs much longer than her own, inhuman strength in every bone and sinew, and a vastly different center of gravity. Still, under that clumsiness lurked a faint shadow of grace, and Cloud found he could imagine her as she was in life—the recordings at Icicle Inn didn't come near to doing her justice.

As she drew closer, he became aware of a faint burning sensation under his skin, and his head began to throb with a headache from much more than caffeine withdrawal. Light was filtering from between the fingers of Vincent's mechanical left hand, and even as Cloud watched, his pale complexion became radiant, and the Mako glow of his eyes turned first muddy brown, then brightened to Lifestream green. He looked very much like Sephiroth would if he ever decided to dye his hair, and the realization cast Cloud's mind back over all Sephiroth's comments as to how familiar Vincent seemed, how uncomfortable the ex-TURK made him. Cloud wondered if Vincent knew or suspected. If he did, Cloud was going to kick his butt for failing to mention the whole pseudo-father-in-law thing to him.

Ifalna/Vincent finally stopped a scant arm's length away, arms still outstretched—well, right one outstretched, left sort of twisted in the right general direction. Cloud's skin was crawling with cold fire by this point, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the bright green eyes staring out from Vincent's well-known features. He chafed his hands up and down his arms to fight the chill, but moving away was somehow beyond him.

Ifalna's bright green eyes glowed down at him from Vincent's greater height, alight with mysterious knowledge, seeming to say 'pay attention' without ever saying a word. Twisted metal and graceful flesh came together as Ifalna clasped Vincent's hands in an almost prayerful position. Head bowed, long inky hair spilling forward, bearing no physical resemblance, yet Cloud thought of Aeris on the altar, kneeling in prayer to Holy. The light shining through Vincent's warped fingers intensified, burning at Cloud's eyes, but far worse was the screaming pain dancing over his nerve endings. He was peripherally aware of other people arriving, of Galen murmuring prayerfully somewhere nearby, but the torment of his flesh occupied most of his awareness. No sound escaped past his clenched teeth, but he wished for the release of a scream.

As if in response, Vincent's bones cracked and warped, and Chaos manifested with a roar. But the transformation seemed weirdly incomplete—the wings erupted from his back, but his thick mane of hair didn't twist into the demon's spikes. The demon's fangs and claws appeared, but his skin remained milk-white and his eyes were still Lifestream-green. And despite the roar it uttered upon arrival, the monster didn't seem to be in the usual state of unreasoning rage. In fact…it looked like it was still Ifalna in there, not Chaos at all.

Holy still burned like a star from within Chaos's clawed grasp. The light grew until the whole room was swallowed by it, and Cloud could finally tear his eyes away and shield his face with an upraised arm. The heat given off with the light was gentle, like the sun during the mildest part of spring, though Cloud still felt the screaming pain pulsing through his veins.

After several moments of this, the light faded—or, not so much faded as contracted, folding itself back into the Materia, a flower blooming in reverse. The pain flickering under his skin also faded, and Cloud gathered the courage to look back at Vincent. Ifalna. Whatever.

Vincent was on his knees, looking up at Cloud with Ifalna's smile firmly in place on his features. His arms were again spread wide as if to offer an embrace, the twisted metal of his arm no longer lit from within by Holy's power. Chaos was gone. Vincent's lips parted, a whisper almost too soft for even Cloud to hear barely escaping them.

"Virga knew," Ifalna said with Vincent's deep voice, and Cloud's eyes went wide. Virga? His father, Virga? What had he known? But before Cloud could ask any of his questions, Vincent's eyes rolled up in his skull and he fainted, falling sideways as though the weight of his damaged arm was too much to support any longer. No conscious thought brought Cloud to his friend's side, only pure reflex enabling him to zoom to Vincent's side and half-catch him as he crumpled.

"Aeris…says hello…" Vincent murmured before sliding fully into unconsciousness. Cloud started, his brain spinning in dizzying orbits around thoughts of Aeris and his father and poor Vincent, who seemed always to manage to get the rawest deal of anyone Cloud knew. And that took some doing, considering the company he kept.

Galen's face wavered into view. "C'mon, Cloud, let me take a look, okay?"

Cloud blinked, feeling a stray tear escape, then carefully relinquished his unconscious friend to the doctor's care.

Galen bent intently over Vincent, nimble hands seeking injuries, producing instruments and medicines and Materia from the pockets of his coat. Cloud watched the Cetra working his magic, a blend of an Ancient's intuition and modern medical technology of which Cloud could barely make heads or tails. All he knew was that Galen seemed to know what he was doing, and Cloud had to look away when the redhead produced a needle and drew blood. A half-forgotten image of Zack lying strapped to a table while Hojo leaned over him with a huge hypodermic while Cloud looked on helplessly from inside his tube floated to the surface. Cloud reflected that it was probably a good thing that Vincent was unconscious right now—if **he** was having flashbacks, how would **Vincent** react to a man in a white coat sticking him with sharp objects? Very probably violently.

"So," came a familiar voice, and Cloud turned to see Reno standing nonchalantly near the door. Tseng sat in his wheelchair at his side, with Taka in his lap. All three were staring fixedly at Vincent. "Anyone know what the fuh-lip that was about?"

Cloud shrugged, allowing Reno's language censoring to pass unremarked, even if he still thought it was funny as hell that the TURK was so hyperaware of the little ears in the vicinity. "I'm not sure. But that was Ifalna—Aeris's mother. Not Vincent."

Reno frowned. "Well, she **was** an Ancient, though I didn't think even our kind could possess people after we've died."

"She was in Aeris's Materia…though the Materia was originally Ifalna's."

"Interesting that she managed both to make Holy come and keep it contained," Tseng murmured. "I wonder how she did it? Were the Ancients of old really so much more powerful than we are today?"

Reno snorted indelicately. "No. I learned that much in the Lifestream from the others. Actually, if anything, the mixing of human and Cetra blood has made us more flexible and creative in our uses of our powers. But it may be that certain knowledge is necessary to use some of their greater powers—like summoning Holy like that. I'll have to ask Aeris next time I see her—though that could be a while. And of course neither the Planet nor the dead really offer up their secrets easily." The TURK rolled his eyes. "Always so da-ng cryptic."

"Well, whatever she did, we need to learn to replicate it," Galen said, looking up from Vincent at last. His eyes were alight with excitement and hope—a far cry from the terror and despair of only minutes ago. "I can't find a single trace of the Calamity's cells in him!"

"What?" Cloud demanded. "You mean Holy killed his Jenova cells?" He recalled the searing pain he'd felt just being close to Ifalna's working and didn't doubt. "That's incredible! I mean, it could have some bad effects on him, and who knows how he'll feel when he wakes up, but this is progress, finally!"

Galen held up one hand. "Hold on, Cloud. Number one, I've only had a few minutes to examine him, so it's hardly definitive. Number two, summoning Holy would surely be something the Ancients tried, yet the Calamity is still here. It can't be so easy."

"It's someplace to start," Tseng said firmly. "Reno." He looked at his lover, who flashed him a cocky grin.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get right on it, Boss. Been meaning to put the squeeze on those old geezers for a while now. Heh." The TURK sauntered out the door with a casual wave. "Be sure and tell Mister Reeve that I'm not slacking off, would ya?"

Tseng rolled his eyes in a surprisingly unrefined motion for such a generally refined man. Then he shifted his legs under the weight of his son. "Go with Reno, Taka, and watch over him. Call me if anything happens." Given the state of the PHS network, chances were fifty-fifty that the TURK actually meant to use the phone. Taka grinned, gave his father a kiss on the cheek, then hopped off his lap to run down the hall after Reno. Cloud saw the TURK stop and scoop the child up onto his hip with an indulgent smile.

Galen smiled a little. "He does surprisingly well in a parental role. Did well enough by us, anyway, whenever he could." Cloud noticed for the first time that the other brothers Hernandez were also present, though they turned to leave almost as soon as Cloud noticed them—Rathan with a swagger like his eldest brother's, and Andrew with an apologetic little bow. Tseng smiled after the family for a moment, and Cloud reflected that he had never seen the TURK leader appear so relaxed, except perhaps during the reunion with his team back in Mideel. But just as suddenly as Cloud had spotted and identified the emotion on the man's face, it cleared to his customary professional mask.

"I have work to do for the President, so I will get back to it." He turned dark eyes to Cloud. "I assume you heard the radio." At Cloud's nod he continued. "Expect your orders in the next hour or so. But I can tell you that they've put you on the very front, and they'll be giving you some people to command. I'd suggest you start working with your command as soon as possible."

Cloud nodded, realizing how important teamwork and mutual trust was to the small groups of men and women who formed the backbone of the military—including SOLDIER. Still…

"Ifalna mentioned my father, Virga. By name." Tseng's eyebrows rose. "She said he knew something just after she activated the Materia. I'd like to know what he knew, how she knows, and how it's useful to us."

Tseng frowned. "We really need to be spinning everyone up for combat, so there really isn't much manpower for personal searches…" At Cloud's expression he nodded decisively. "Don't worry about it. Somehow I'll have someone look into it, at the very least because it could be related to an anti-Jenova weapon."

Cloud frowned and nodded. He wasn't sure how much he wanted some stranger poking around in his father's affairs. Allowing access to the records on what Hojo had done to him was no problem. Well, it was, actually—it felt like a violation even to think of what had been done to him, what little he remembered, and thinking of another person seeing, **knowing** his shame… It made his skin crawl. But he knew it was necessary, and he had been able to reason it out and **choose** to consent to it.

But his father was not here to consent, and Cloud had so few memories of him—did he have any at all, or were those just imaginings based on his mother's stories and the notes left behind by his father the conscientious scientist? Cloud didn't want to spoil anything, and he was afraid that anything he learned couldn't help but ruin it. He knew his father had been involved in the SOLDIER project and the development of various Mako-based technologies and wished he could just leave it at that. Because a part of him feared to find his father had been part of the Jenova Project, had been involved in the horrors inflicted on Sephiroth. And even if his father's opinion of Hojo had been low, Hojo hadn't started the Jenova Project—Professor Gast had. And Virga's opinion of Gast had been diametrically opposite Hojo.

As if plucking Cloud's conflicted thoughts from thin air, Tseng met his eyes levelly. "Don't worry. I will choose someone discrete to do this, and only if you consent."

Cloud bit his lip, then nodded. "Do it." He couldn't afford to be squeamish now, not if it might help the Planet. Not if it might one day bring them a world without Jenova. He longed for such a day, some time when he could be without fear that his lover would go mad again, that he himself might be reduced to a hollow shell of himself, a puppet on short strings. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. "Do it," he repeated, and Tseng nodded soberly. The Wutaian man offered a short bow from his seat to Cloud and Galen, then turned and wheeled down the hall.

Galen puttered around Vincent's bed for a little while, then excused himself to check on the samples he'd taken, leaving Cloud alone in the hospital room. It was quiet in that way of hospital rooms and abandoned classrooms—there was the quiet beep of the monitors and the slow drip of the IV, the eerily loud ticking of the wall clock, and the far off sound of other people shouting, laughing, crying, talking. Silence no longer existed for Cloud, not with hearing like his and the Mako running in his blood. Even if there truly was no sound, he'd still hear the phantom murmurs the Mako caused, maybe even the voice of the Planet, if he was quiet enough. In fact…

Even now, he was aware of a waiting stillness in the world. Far away, the Planet screamed at the violation of the Calamity's movements over her surface, but here she waited to see what would come of humanity's attempts to save her. And Cloud was grimly determined to do his best, as he knew everyone else was. Still, he'd feel a lot better if they had more to go on than Vincent's seeming to be Jenova-free and Ifalna's cryptic comments. Reno's reference to the difficulties in getting information from the dead made a lot more sense to Cloud in that context. Cetra and TURKs—masters of half-truths and mixed blessings. Cloud felt an irreverent grin touch the corners of his mouth at the thought of lumping Reno, Vincent, the other TURKs, Aeris, and all the dead Cetra together in one category.

Maybe conflict really did pull people together.

With that hopeful thought, Cloud picked up his case of classified materials, glanced around the room to be sure he hadn't forgotten any, then headed back to Pink HQ. He had to drop this stuff off before he could go home, anyway, and maybe this way he'd at least get his orders sooner. Now that he no longer had Vincent to distract him, the wait was beginning to make him twitchy. He left a note with the Clinic desk to tell Cid that Vincent had woken—sort of—and that Cloud would be at Pink HQ if he needed him, then the SOLDIER Lieutenant stepped out into the chilly Midgar evening.

* * *

And, hello again!

So, how was it? Good, I hope. So I got to play with Vincent for a while, poke fun at the Cetra, play with my little Galen (hugs homemade Galen doll, complete with uneven stitching), aaaaand reintroduce Virga! Yay! We also finally get to see Shinra swinging into motion against the threat. I always wondered what it would be like for an army for an organization that literally spans the planet to be spinning up to face a threat. Not that the whole Shinra army is getting ready—not enough time, after all. But still, I like to play with the concept in my head.

Next chapter—preparations for war! Please look for it. I hope it'll be up sometime this year, but with the 70+ hour workweek thing going on… Maybe I should go and learn CPR after all.

Please review!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	21. Last Minute Preparations

Hi!

Okay, once again I find myself having to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Believe it or not, I really did mean to post something way back around New Year, but…yeah, six months later… sigh Crisis Core finally kicked me out of the writer's block, though. Of course, now I want to write a Crisis Core fic (Zack is so CUTE!) along with the millions of other ideas I've come up with (along with my little jaunt into the DMC universe over on AFF). Makes working on this hard. But I **will** finish this fic!

So, as an apology (and because once the muse got started, it didn't want to stop) I present you with an extra long chapter! Almost double the usual size! I know it doesn't make up for six months of neglect (!! Has it been that long already?!), but I hope you all like it.

So, no more procrastinating! On to Chapter 21!

* * *

Standing on a rise, watching the lines of trenches slowly spread like cracks in a windshield, Cloud was already engaged in combat. He was fighting the memory of months spent hunkered down in such trenches, watching the men around him die, some spent cheaply by the idiots in command, some simply vanishing in the night, still others falling to the illnesses that swept their lines. He wanted to vomit thinking of it, reflecting on how this had seemed like such a good idea before he'd actually seen it. He'd never thought that he'd come to a point where he'd remember **too** much, not when the fabric of his memory most closely remembered a dusty, moth-eaten rug that no one had bothered to clean the mud from before they put it away. And really, that was still the trouble. He could remember only bits and pieces, most of them involving the sheer physical misery that had been trench warfare back in Wutai. The memories that would have put these others in perspective were still AWOL—if he ever caught them, he'd have to shoot them for desertion in the face of the enemy.

Still, despite his sudden squeamishness, Cloud decided that the construction was going well. Units of militia, Regular army, and SOLDIER worked in close concert, sometimes digging with the aid of bulldozers and backhoes, sometimes just with shovels and sweat. There were survey teams out in force to map the expanding warren and guide the crews to the next dig sites—not to mention steering them clear of known hazards and occasional buried utility lines. From his perch at the edge of one of the cliffs of the Wastelands, Cloud thought the workers resembled ants. He could make out their varicolored uniforms from this distance, and even the occasional militia head- and armbands, but they seemed so tiny. He wondered if their efforts would be enough.

He hated himself when he caught himself thinking about how pathetic their efforts were, hated the part of him that was so convinced nothing could stand against Jenova's might, the part that longed to worship that power. It was way too easy to think like Jenova from this height, and he itched to be down there among the mud, sweat, and busy vehicles, even despite the nausea the thought of the trenches woke in him. He would rather feel like he was on the brink of a post-traumatic episode than like he was a part of that monster.

But that wasn't his role. While most of the troops were building the fortifications that would defend the civilians from Jenova and her army and would give the Midgar forces fighting positions, Cloud had a different task. The company to which he'd been assigned and the two companies directly on either side were planned to take the brunt of Jenova's attack—she would go after Cloud anyway, so Reeve, Sephiroth, and the other heads of Shinra's remaining armed forces had decided to give him the support of essentially three companies of SOLDIERs. They were practicing working together against a common enemy, using the tumbled terrain to get used to working on uneven ground. AVALANCHE was present in force, helping Cloud and the higher-than-usual percentage of CAVs assigned to the three units to train everyone else up in anti-Jenova tactics.

Not everyone in the three companies was one of the Volunteers, since there was only about a large company's worth in the whole of SOLDIER. They drew a lot of them since they were virtually guaranteed to face Jenova, but others had been sprinkled through the other SOLDIER forces with directions to at least verbally teach their units what they could about Jenova and her monsters. Cloud and his support weren't the only ones cramming in frantic training—even from here, Cloud could see little knots of people form around CAVs during breaks, animated discussions taking place. There were even a few Regulars and militiamen hanging around the edges, which made Cloud feel better. The more the knowledge was spread, the better off they'd all be.

It was grueling work. Even with the stamina any SOLDIER had, the men were looking a bit run down, and it would get worse over the next couple of days. They had a lot to learn and practically no time in which to do it. Especially since, after those days of harsh training, they would need some time to recuperate physically so they'd be able to stand strong against Jenova.

The other defensive efforts were also proceeding apace, at least from what Cloud heard. The evacuation of Midgar's shantytowns was nearly done, with much less fuss than Cloud had anticipated, and the resettling in the new location outside Sector Six was almost complete. The militia's stations were mostly decided upon already, usually in preexisting defensible locations like rock outcroppings and tumbled-down buildings. The new tent city sat right at the edge of the Midgar ruins, partially stretching into the old city in places the debris was more stable. Then it was surrounded by a thin ring of militia stations, a bit thicker on the outside edge where Jenova was predicted to come. But Reeve was taking no chances—there were automated defenses scrounged from the wrecked Shinra facilities to flesh out the defensive perimeter, and small stations for men in the ruins and even on the far side of them, just in case Jenova tried something excessively sneaky.

A good setup, all in all, especially considering the haste with which it had all been thrown together. Cloud just wished the waiting part would hurry up and get done. He hated having all this time to worry and wonder. Oh, sure, everyone else felt pressed for time, but all he had to do was get ready to fight, and he was **always** ready to fight. He'd already read the battle plan, quadruple-guessed his Materia allocations, and sharpened Ultima weapon—which, being part of a WEAPON, and therefore part of the Planet itself, didn't actually need sharpening. Ever. He'd checked his light-weight armor, debating how much magic defense he'd need versus physical defense, wondered if he would need any elemental or status protection, and basically paced a rut in the tent he was living out of in the Sector Six edge city. It would almost be a relief when the fight came. He was looking forward to a world free of Jenova. He knew they wouldn't lose—not with him, and AVALANCHE, and SOLDIER, **and** Sephiroth. It was just inconceivable. Maybe it was stupid of him, but he couldn't imagine them losing, even with Jenova's voice flickering at the edges of his consciousness.

Motion below caught his eye and drew him from his brooding thoughts. A small squad of lightly armored chocobos, obviously animals trained for combat duties, moved around the trenches and the busy workers. Many of the workers stopped to watch for a while, before their supervisors chivvied them back into order. It was obvious even from Cloud's distance exactly what they were looking at—the blaze of brilliant silver hair was like a neon sign proclaiming Sephiroth's presence among the riders. Thinking what an image Sephiroth must be while riding some great warbird, Cloud could well believe people would stop to watch him pass. In fact, he wished he had a better view himself.

The small figure below looked up at him, and for some reason, though he couldn't make out the man's other features from here, Cloud could see his eyes, was even drawn into them. Sephiroth raised his arm, and Cloud smiled and waved back. Sad that this was the closest they'd been for the two days since they'd moved their necessities into their assigned places in the tent city. Already, Cloud missed his lover, both physically and just for the pleasure of being near him.

Sephiroth was evidently of the same opinion, for he waved the other riders on and turned his own chocobo up the slope toward Cloud. The other riders scattered fairly quickly, but Cloud really only had eyes for Sephiroth. The sight of his already-magnificent lover on a war-chocobo was easily as striking as he'd imagined.

Sephiroth halted his chocobo only feet from Cloud, a slight smile curving his lips and softening his sharp features. Cloud wished he'd get off the damn bird and come down where he could kiss him.

"Hello," Sephiroth said with a little purr and Cloud knew his lover had been missing him too. He fixed a slightly sultry smirk on his face and purred right back.

"Hey."

Sephiroth twitched slightly, leaned as if to dismount, then caught himself and straightened in the saddle. Cloud was disappointed, but knew it was probably for the best—damn it.

A distraction was in order.

"So," he asked, trying to keep his cool. "Where are you off to? And what's the big bag you're carrying?"

Sephiroth quirked a brow at him, and his smile turned wry. "The bag is a set of remote sensors. I will be traveling out toward the beach to emplace them. The others are also carrying sensors to emplace. We have decided we want some form of early warning system to tell us when she's coming." They both shivered a little at the reference to Jenova, equal parts fear, revulsion, and twisted longing. "We can't just rely on you and me being able to sense her. She's more than capable of hiding herself from us, and even if she chooses not to, we only have precise measures of where she is within a few miles. And that's not good enough."

Cloud shook his head. "No, I guess not." He sighed. "I just wish I could do something more helpful than sit here and stew."

"You're readying your troops to fight, and helping others do so. That's an important task," Sephiroth commented.

"Yeah, I know. It just gives me too much time to think."

"Be grateful there is time to think now. Soon enough, that'll be a luxury of which I doubt she'll allow much." He smiled. "Maybe you just need something else to think about."

Even with the verbal warning, the kiss still surprised Cloud. It had to be uncomfortable for Sephiroth to bend down at such an angle, his saddle was probably digging into some rather tender places, and his chocobo squawked a protest, but Sephiroth seemed heedless of all of it. So Cloud threw himself into the moment, too, humming softly into his lover's mouth. Their mouths were open, but no tongues became involved until the little flick Sephiroth gave right before he pulled away. Cloud reached after him reflexively, only to have his hand caught in Sephiroth's. The taller man smiled down at him from the great height of the chocobo's saddle, twining their fingers together. Their rings clicked together through the leather, and Cloud shivered at the reminder of all they had been and might one day be again.

Sephiroth stared at their joined hands for a moment, rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over the ring under Cloud's heavy glove. Cloud shifted anxiously and Sephiroth looked up at him, eyes even more intense than usual.

"We've made no promises," Sephiroth murmured. "And we only recently became intimate again. But you've worn this the whole time, carried it with you even when you didn't remember anything. And I have to wonder—why?"

Cloud shrugged. "Because sometimes all that keeps me going is hope, and I guess this represents hope for a happy future to me. Or maybe the memories of a happy past. I hoard them, you know. Every scrap of memory is a treasure—good or bad, there's nothing I don't cherish." He felt his face heat, and dropped his gaze. "I guess I'm a little obsessive about you, Seph."

Sephiroth chuckled. "I've proven I obsess over you, too, so don't feel bad. Besides, so far as I'm concerned—look at me when I say this, Cloud." Cloud looked up, and Sephiroth nodded. "Better. So far as I'm concerned, your hope will not be in vain. Only death will ever part us again, and that for only a little while." His voice was gentle, but determined. "Understand?"

Cloud nodded a little dazedly, then smiled wryly. "You pick the strangest times and places to get all romantic. I mean, while preparing for a battle, when we've barely seen each other for days, and we only just got together again? Really."

Sephiroth shrugged. "Seems fine to me. What better time?" He finally let go of Cloud's hand and whirled his chocobo in place to face back the way he'd come. "I had better get going, but mark my words—when I get back, I don't care what they have us doing. We **will** spend some time together." The tall general tapped the chocobo's side and man and beast started down the rise.

Cloud grinned, feeling a little lighter, now that he'd seen his lover. "Count on it, mister! Or else!" he shouted, not caring who heard or saw him bellowing after the General.

Until he turned back toward the SOLDIERs to find many of them staring at him in various degrees of shock and confusion, and the members of AVALANCHE staring not at him, but at Tifa. Who was red in the face and looked ready to Final Heaven him clear into next week. He'd have to read about Jenova's defeat in the after-action reports.

"Uh…" he began, not entirely sure what he was going to say. He'd known he'd have to tell them eventually, but he'd hoped for rather more controlled circumstances. And really he'd been procrastinating finally telling them, and he knew it, but they were his friends, and he knew that this wouldn't likely go over too well. Vincent had been fine with it, for which Cloud was dizzyingly grateful, but Tifa? He felt sick.

The furious brunette fighter stormed up to him, getting right in his space and glaring into his face. Her eyes were practically as red as Vincent's, and Cloud cringed inwardly. This was going to hurt.

"What, exactly, was that all about?" she demanded. "Looked to me like you were swapping spit with Jenova's spawn. Is that why he's running around unsupervised doing Planet-knows-what to our defenses? Because he's compromised you?"

Cloud scowled and stepped away from her. He'd been all ready to cringe and beg forgiveness for not telling them, but he wasn't about to take implications of inappropriate behavior lying down. Not to mention an insult! "Damn it, Tifa, you're not my mother, not my girlfriend, and I don't see a brand on my skin that says I'm your property. If I decide to see someone, it's not your business. And furthermore, Sephiroth has proven he's not working for Jenova anymore, so get off the old 'we can't trust that monster!' refrain. It's getting old. Oh, and, for the record, I really don't like you calling my boyfriend 'Jenova's spawn.' So don't."

"B-boyfriend?" Yuffie asked from nearby. The young ninja girl cracked up. "He's an ex-psychotic, world-destroying general who can cut **buildings** in two without even trying, and you call him '**boy**friend?' Not lover, not partner, not significant other—boyfriend!" The girl was practically rolling on the ground howling with laughter.

Cloud colored. "Would you prefer ex-fiancé?"

"What?!" Tifa exploded, her screech rising above even Barret and Cid's combined swearing. Yuffie's jaw swung open, while Red just patiently sat back on his haunches, waiting for the explanation. Too bad Reeve wasn't around so Cloud could get everyone out of the way all at once. Though he had a suspicion that the interim President knew or suspected at least the lovers bit.

Cloud sighed and began working his glove off. "Look, Nibelheim disrupted a lot of stuff in my life. If not for that…bitch, Jenova, this ring—" he held up his hand to display the simple silver ring that symbolized everything he and Sephiroth had had together. "Would have been replaced by another fairly quickly. And if Zack could have managed it, Aeris would have had one just like it, too. Well, I guess he probably would have gone for diamonds and stuff, but given what we did for a living, simple was better for Seph and me."

"F--ing dammit, I'm going to kill that man!" Cid exploded.

Cloud glowered. "Better not."

"No, no, not **him**. Vincent! How long has he known about this? That creep has been dropping hints for **ages** about how it would 'make Cloud happy if we eased up a little on Sephiroth.' How we should 'forgive and move on, after all, just look at Cloud!'" He waved his lit cigarette in a furious circle, shaking his fist. "And all this time, I'm thinking he's just trying to soften us all up for the 'Sephiroth really doesn't look much like Hojo' bomb! Damn, I'm a f--ing idiot! And I'm going to f--ing kick his uptight, angsty, incommunicative ass the minute doing it won't land him back in the hospital!"

Cloud offered a half-smile. "If it's any consolation, I think he's been working on that one, too."

"Oh, shit!" Yuffie exclaimed. "You're right! He looks more like…" She trailed off, then cut her eyes at Cloud. "Okay. I'm suddenly understanding why you might go for that crazy jerk. Just by extension, you understand."

Cid glowered, and with an expression like that, he probably didn't need a lighter for his cigarettes. "You better not be implying you've got a thing for a certain tall, dark, and f--ing broody ex-TURK of our acquaintance."

"Oh, no way. Not my type. Short and blonde is really more my speed. But that doesn't mean I'm blind. Any doofus can tell Vincent Valentine is hot. Why that woman left him for a creepy old prune like Hojo, I'll never understand."

"So you are saying you would rather have Cloud," Red XIII said, though with his nose, he almost certainly had known the truth of things well in advance.

Yuffie blinked momentarily, then colored. "Oh, gross! No offense, Cloud, but no way, not ever!" She shuddered. "I have no interest in any of you idiots who let a one-eyed trouser snake do all your thinking for you." Barrett and Cid looked a little offended, but Cloud smirked. He was **more** than happy to let Sephiroth's 'trouser snake' do the thinking, so long as it was in the appropriate time and place. Cloud was jolted from these pleasant musings by another round of shocked gasps and the sweet symphony of Cid and Barrett cursing.

"What?" Yuffie demanded. "You think I let her tie me up just because? Sheesh. And people think **I'm** an airhead. You guys should have seen the old man's face when I told him!" she crowed gleefully. "I thought he was gonna nuke the Pagoda right there! It was great!" She scrunched up her face. "Even if I do keep getting cornered by TURKs threatening me with bodily harm if I ever so much as bruise her heart. As if! Tseng's pretty scary, you know, for a dude in a wheelchair. Then Reno's got the damn Lifestream backing his threats, and Rude just freaks me out—he never talks! And Reeve's even worse! Something about 'can't run this place without her.'" She grinned broadly, puffing herself up, her tiny frame ready to burst with pride. "See! **My** girl is **important**."

"I'll be sure to remind you how cool you thought it was when your relationship turns out to include a marriage of state," Red commented dryly and Yuffie sputtered a protest.

Amused, Cloud glanced around at the assembled. "Anyone else have anything to share with the rest of the class?" he asked ruefully, unsure how training SOLDIERs against Jenova had turned into a round of truth or dare. He shot a sideways glance at Cid, who swore.

"F--! Don't look at me! You want more of Vincent's f--ing secrets, you f--ing pry them from him your own damn self! Like blood from a f--ing stone!"

Shrugging—he'd been kind of hoping for something to either prove or disprove the idea he'd gotten in his head that the pilot and the ex-TURK were sleeping together—he directed his Mako-bright gaze across the faces of the group. Tifa was still looking distinctly mutinous, but everyone else seemed to be handling it all well enough. Even Barrett no longer wore that expression of mingled horror and rage, replaced with a vague sort of shock and a look Cloud recognized as 'don't bother me, foo'—I'm processing.' It would take a while until he knew how everything would fall out on the topic, but at least he knew **most** of his friends were willing to trust his judgment.

Which just left Tifa. Again. As usual.

"Okay, then. Break time's over. We only have a little while to get everyone up to speed on how to handle Jenova." Cloud clenched his fists until his knuckles popped, hating even having to say her name, spitting it like a curse. Hell, it **was** a curse. **She** was a curse, a blight on the whole Planet. The name seemed to yank everyone back to the task at hand, the general good mood dropping, faces settling into grim determination from their easy smiles. "Let's do this, people."

Cid rolled his eyes. "Well, at least it's better than 'let's mosey," he grumbled, ambling back toward the SOLDIERs, whom Cloud was pretty certain had heard every word. He would have, anyway. The others followed Cid, except for Tifa, who stood before him, gnawing her lip and locking desperate eyes on his face as she cast about for the right words.

"I'm…sorry," she finally said. Cloud kept his face as still and impassive as possible.

"Are you really?" he asked quietly. "And I want the truth. You told me you would try to let go of the grudge, but it seems that either you haven't been trying hard enough, or you don't trust me enough anymore to ask for help."

Tifa's head shot up, red-brown eyes wide. "No! That's not it at all! It's just…you've been under his power before, seen things and believed things just because he **wanted** you to, and I…" She ducked her head. "I know you say you don't love me, and you never will. But even though I'm…trying…to get over that, over **you**, I still do love you. And I always will. And it would just kill me to see you give your heart to someone who didn't take care of it. I don't want to see you broken again."

Cloud felt his heart soften. Tifa was a good woman. Occasionally overbearing and clingy, but it was as much a part of her nature to take care of those she cared for as it was to beat her enemies senseless. In some ways, her care was more genuine than even Aeris's—Aeris was a Cetra, compelled by her connection to the Planet to offer aid wherever she could. Tifa had only her big heart and generally kind disposition to explain her actions. And if she was more like a she-wolf than a fluffy bunny…well, she wore that on her sleeve, too. It wasn't like he could say he hadn't known about that right from the beginning.

Cloud reached out to grasp her shoulder firmly. "Tifa. I appreciate your concern. Really. It kinda makes me feel…safe, I guess. Like, if anything does go wrong, at least someone's got my back. But I really don't think anything **will** go wrong, not between Seph and me, anyway. He's…" Cloud could feel his lips curve up in a disgustingly besotted smile, but couldn't bring himself to care. "He's the way he was before, mostly, only he's not as worried about hurting me, anymore. I don't know for sure if we'll get back to what we had, but… It seems likely, you know? Stupid damn alien won't give us time to figure things out, but maybe once this is all over."

Tifa looked sad. "So, you're gonna marry him, after all?"

Cloud frowned. "I don't know. Not for a while, obviously, since we haven't really had time to be in a relationship together yet, not with all that's been happening. But, maybe someday."

Tifa suddenly grinned. "So, which of you is wearing the dress?"

Cloud blinked, not fully convinced he'd heard what he thought he'd heard. Then he blinked again and spluttered in outrage. "Hey!" He took a swipe at her, missing only by a hairsbreadth thanks to her quick reflexes. "Tifa, not fair!" She took off running toward the SOLDIERs, laughing over her shoulder at him.

"You've still got that sweet purple number, right? It's not really the right color, though you obviously can't wear white, but I'll bet Sephiroth will like it!"

"Hey!" Cloud exclaimed indignantly, chasing after her. "Come back here so I can beat your head out of the gutter! Tifa!"

* * *

"It seems that things are as ready as they're going to be," Reeve commented, looking out across the Wastes. The brutalized, Mako-drained land had been transformed over the last few days, and was barely recognizable anymore. It was as dry and dead as before, but a maze of deep trenches had spread inexorably through it, heavy embankments reinforcing the earthen fighting positions. Tall lookout towers and heavy weapons emplacements bristled all along the lines, and coils of vicious razorwire were strung across the dead spaces between positions. Mines and booby-traps were easily hidden in the tortured earth—all the ground had been shifted somehow, so there was no telltale sign of something buried to tip off the enemy.

Reeve's eyes probably couldn't make out the small knots of troops moving along the lines, going about duties they had settled in surprisingly well despite the short warning. But Sephiroth's could and did, searching for a blond head he knew wouldn't be there. Cloud should be much farther out, beyond even Sephiroth's sight, but that didn't stop him from straining his eyes for a glimpse of his lover.

This was even worse than when Cloud had been in Wutai, and he and Zack had been stuck in Midgar. The fighting hadn't even started yet, but Sephiroth was worried, frightened even. Cloud was more than capable of taking care of himself, but that didn't stop the fear. Jenova was coming with a horde of monsters at her side, all bent on destroying humanity, and especially on tearing Cloud away from him. Sephiroth was determined not to let her succeed, but even his strength and Cloud's formidable abilities could be overcome if she had enough monsters and enough luck on her side.

O'Dell, a man with whom Sephiroth had not been acquainted before this, but who was turning out to be competent and easy to work with, spoke up. "There's still a little bit of shoring up to be done on the north end of the trenches, and the last of the heavy weapons are being emplaced today and tonight. By tomorrow, all the major physical defenses will be complete, assuming nothing goes any more off-kilter than expected. All the currently emplaced weapons have been test-fired, and all of the weapons have had full diagnostics. We even have experienced crews on most of them."

"Good." Reeve nodded decisively. "And the reissue?"

Sephiroth spoke up. "Front line units are about ninety percent complete for standard equipment—weapons, armor, tents, emergency rations, and so on. Materia allocations are a little behind. Call it eighty percent complete, though all SOLDIERs have their Materia in order, at least. For those units not stationed on the outermost defense perimeter, reissue is about fifty percent complete, including Materia. We have taken pains to ensure everyone has a weapon, even if the attack were to come right now, though some of those weapons are desperately in need of replacement. Some were old when we went to Wutai, Dragoon War era equipment, even. Still, if she really takes as long as we estimated, reissue should be complete by then."

He frowned. "My biggest concern—" /_Aside from Cloud, of course._/ "—is rations. If we cannot defeat her fairly promptly, food and clean water will become troublesome. Fighting and spellcasting take a lot of energy, and the Wastelands are hot. With Jenova's presence fouling any natural springs," it took more effort to force her name out than it should have, and he despised his own weakness. "Pre-bottled water will be the only option. I have assigned teams to procure water, and empty containers are being cleaned and filled. Hopefully, we will have enough."

Reeve nodded grimly. "I hope so. If it comes to it, we will send part of the civilian ration forward. It does no good to have healthy, comfortable civilians defended by dehydrated, dying troops." The interim President looked pained, and Sephiroth wondered anew at the novelty of serving a leader who actually gave a crap about the people he was supposed to lead. Shinras seemed to have caring bred right out of them, and Sephiroth had been convinced that anyone who joined the Company had it torn out of them, especially if they then reached higher levels of power within the Company. He'd been convinced even he was the same way for a long time, until an annoying brunet boy—the protégé of one of Sephiroth's few, somewhat distant friends—came along and pestered his way into his heart and his bed. Then Cloud had come along, and that needed no explanation.

It was such a relief to serve a man who actually seemed to deserve it. Whenever actual elections managed to happen, Sephiroth suspected Reeve would find himself officially President, no matter if it was a popular vote or a more Shinra-standard vote of the Board and Department Heads. Sephiroth knew where he'd be casting his vote, if he got one.

Reeve shook his head as if to dispel his grim mood. "News from Junon?"

Andrews spoke. "Colonel Shimo called in from one of the waypoints on the coastal road a few hours ago. They're still several days out, but shouldn't get here much after Jenova's forces do. With luck, we won't need them, but if we do, they'll be perfectly positioned to take her from the side. The Airstation at Junon is also standing by to sortie as needed. Incidentally, our own air forces seem to be doing pretty well, too. The cannons Captain Highwind managed to attach to that ship of his are up and running, and we've got some of the Deepgrounders and their choppers, Shrikes, and Dragonflies boosting our capacity."

Sephiroth glanced over at Andrews. "Weiss is behaving?"

Andrews shrugged. "Seems to be. It's Rosso we're having problems with—I don't mind telling you, that woman scares me. Nero does too, but as long as you don't come between him and his brother, he's usually okay. Azul does what Weiss commands, and Shelke is practically Azul's shadow. None of the others down there will make a move without Weiss's say so."

Sephiroth frowned. "Deepground maintains their own weapons and Materia stores…"

O'Dell blinked. "How do we keep them contained, then?"

Sephiroth smiled without humor. "We don't. They stay put mostly because they have no desire to leave. Oh, there are heavy steel and adamant doors that theoretically lock them into the spaces around Reactor Zero, but if they really wanted to, they could easily break out." He eyed Andrews. "They might make a good ally…"

Andrews shook his head vehemently. "No. We're not so desperate as to go courting that bunch of crazy butchers."

Sephiroth crooked a brow. "Why not? You already did this one. And you discovered he's not as crazy as you may have thought. The only time you have seen Deepgrounders is when they were taken out to fight, and to probably die doing so. Do you think Weiss offered up the cream of his crop, or the troublemakers who disturbed their closed little society?" Andrews frowned a little, looking uncomfortable, but as though he was considering it. Sephiroth sighed. "I'm not saying we should welcome them with open arms—many **are** mad, by our standards, and some have been reduced to little more than animals by trauma and mutation. But keep in mind that if we can secure a little of their loyalty, it would probably make it harder for Jenova to obtain their cooperation."

"Do they suffer?" Reeve asked, looking haunted. Sephiroth was again reminded of how compassionate this man was, how he could hurt for others. He really wasn't cut out to lead in time of war…but on the other hand, who better?

"I couldn't say for sure. I have had only limited dealings with them, mostly with those sent to die, or with Weiss and his council—Tsviets, they call themselves. Those sent to die seem happy enough to throw themselves at any target that presents itself, heedless of the possibility of death. Weiss is extremely intelligent, strong, capable. He takes care of his people, his brother most of all. He is…" He hesitated, unsure how to word things in the least damning manner possible. Reeve tore his gaze from the trenches to look at him, waiting patiently for the rest. "He is…like me, I think. How much so, I refuse to speculate. But I think he is capable of perpetrating atrocities…if he is given reason to do so. If he is not given such a reason, I think—I hope—he would be content to see to the well being of his people."

Reeve looked back over the lines. "No matter what they've done, they can't possibly have deserved whatever Hojo did to them. They can't deserve to be locked away from even the sight of the sky, no more than the people of the slums did." He drew himself up and turned to face them all fully. "We will treat those Deepgrounders we have among us with the respect due any human being. We will make allowances on the little things, but be sure they understand the overall requirements for good behavior—no raping, murdering, stealing, and all—and punish them as if they were our own for any infractions. They **are** our own, no matter how they have been treated up to now."

Sephiroth nodded. "Just be sure you tell Weiss your intentions. Especially if any punishments must be dealt."

Reeve sighed. "We cannot currently risk letting them out _en masse_, not this close to the battle. But when this is done—or if, Gaia help us, we start to lose—I want them to have the option. In the first case, because it's the right thing to do. In the second…well, maybe they will be able to turn the tide back in our favor. Besides," he turned back to the sprawling defenses, head tilted up to the sky. "It's too sad to think of them waiting in darkness to die, never even seeing the sun."

Sephiroth glanced at Andrews, who shrugged slightly. Their commander was a soft man, a deeply good man, and even what could have been a cold-blooded scheme to use every last resource to ensure their victory…wasn't. It was strange to deal with the head of monolithic Shinra and not find an impeccably groomed monster with ice water in his veins and a lump of cold stone where his heart should be. Even dealing with Deepground was dangerous, and Reeve was obviously aware of it, and of the responsibilities he had to the people of Midgar. But he was also a moral person who could not fail to do what he thought was right.

He'd probably been miserable in the bad old days of institutionalized cruelty.

O'Dell cleared his throat, none too covertly changing the subject. "So, how is the troop training going?"

Sephiroth smiled a little, thinking inevitably of Cloud and the few moments they had managed to steal for themselves amid the preparations. "Well. Every unit has at least a little knowledge on how to handle Jenova and her monsters, which means they're fairly confident. Morale is high. Cloud's group seems to be just about done with the truly intense training. I believe he intended to run them ragged through tonight, and then begin recuperating tomorrow. The other SOLDIERs have been practicing as well, though obviously not so exhaustively."

"As have the Regulars," O'Dell offered. "And the Militias. I'm actually rather impressed with how well the Militias are coming along. I suppose that, since most of them were started by AVALANCHE members, it stands to reason that they would be formidable, given sufficient time and motivation."

"All these weeks of practicing together against monsters is paying off," Andrews added.

"Good. What is the status of Project Pink?"

Sephiroth sighed. "No last-minute breakthroughs. I understand Tseng has been looking into some leads personally, and Reno's trying to get a straight answer out of the Lifestream, but so far? Nothing. And as of tomorrow, Project Pink staff will be halved, to integrate those men into the defense plan. The other half will be assigned to guard Pink HQ." It was risky to keep so many men away from the front, but the secrets contained in the safes at Pink HQ were simply too important to take even the smallest chance that Jenova might somehow obtain them. Knowing this, Reeve made a small unhappy-but-resigned sound in his throat. Sephiroth was quick to offer some good news though, glad that he had some.

"If there is no threat on that side of Midgar, the bunker in which Pink HQ is located will be used as a hospital during the battle. Basic medical supplies are plentiful. While we haven't the experienced doctors to make best use of them, many SOLDIERs are cross-trained in medicine, and the collective experience of the Regulars, Militiamen, and private citizens means at least our men won't be dying of stupid little things. I hear also that Mr. Valentine is up and about. He's apparently still a little disoriented, but the loss of his Jenova cells seems to be having little adverse effect on him. He should be able to participate in the battle, if he so desires."

"Excellent," Reeve said, sounding pleased, then shooting a mischievous look over at Sephiroth. "Speaking of hearing things, I have heard of some strange rumors coming from the troops. Something about you and Cloud eloping? Oh, and another about you laying one on him in the middle of a training session and Tifa blowing up in jealous rage and announcing to all and sundry that she's carrying his love-child. Most peculiar."

Sephiroth heard Andrews snort, half choking on barely suppressed laughter, and felt O'Dell's eyes settle on his back. He felt heat crawl up his cheeks, but kept his face neutral. "Oh? I suppose there are benefits to having a TURK for your primary aide. My favorite rumor is the one where Yuffie firebombed the Great Pagoda because her father would not give his blessing on her marriage to Elena." Previously quietly working her way through a stack of paperwork in the shade of a nearby tent, Elena spluttered a protest.

"Yuffie would never! If anyone's going to set fire to that eyesore, it's gonna be me, dammit!"

Reeve turned to shoot a scandalized look at the petite blonde, who was playing with one of the grenades stashed under her coat with the manic focus of a pyromaniac. The girl colored and released the weapon. "Elena, please try not to say such things—one never knows where Wutai has its spies. It would never do to say something to upset old, cantankerous Godo."

Elena blinked, then giggled, returning to her paperwork. Reeve smiled fondly at her, then turned and pinned Sephiroth with a surprisingly formidable glare. The executive leaned very close to him, his voice a mere whisper. "Understand that if you hurt him, I have no problem abusing my position most atrociously to hunt you down and make you suffer for it. He's had enough pain in his life already."

Sephiroth nodded. "I understand your concerns, but I assure you—Cloud is in no danger from me. I regret having been the source of much of his pain previously, but intend to do all I can to make up for it."

Reeve nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good." He offered Sephiroth a sheepish look. "I didn't really think you were out to hurt him, but his heart's his only weak spot, these days. Best to protect it whenever possible." The interim President stepped away, raising his voice a bit. "Now that business has been taken care of, I suggest we all go back to our duties. And if anyone could convince Cloud to take a little time off before Jenova's likely to get here, that would be great."

Sephiroth glanced at Andrews. "Well," the other man said. "I could order him to take some time, though he might not listen. Apparently, he's used to obeying his own rules."

Sephiroth smiled just a little. "I will see if I can…convince him to relax. For a few hours, at least." He gave Reeve his best emotionlessness-meets-innocence expression. "We certainly do not want him to overexert himself before the battle."

"Then maybe we should keep him away from you…" Andrews muttered, lips twitching. Sephiroth upped the amplitude on his expression, trying to channel a little bit of Zack to attain that perfect confused 'who, me?' look that had gotten his friend out of more trouble than Sephiroth cared to think on.

Reeve blinked at him, then laughed. "Your personal attention to this matter is appreciated, General. I'm sure Cloud will appreciate it, too."

Sephiroth smirked. Yeah, Reeve was a much better man to serve than any Shinra had ever been. Now he just had to wait until tomorrow to convince Cloud to take a little bit of R&R…

* * *

The sky was still dark, the only light in the tent coming from Cloud's glowing blue eyes. The light was enough for him to see by as he quietly wiped a damp washcloth over his body to get the worst of the stink off—the familiar dirt and sweat and musk smells would return soon enough, but there was no need to be stinky yet. He pushed damp fingers through his hair, tying the wild shoulder-length locks back whether or not they were neat. He was well used to the lost cause that was his unruly hair. Then he used the tiny glass mirror to quickly shave and brush his teeth.

As clean as he was going to get, he strapped on his back-up knife and pulled on his fresh, clean uniform. It was one of Zack's, since Cloud was really most comfortable in his dead friend's clothes. (He wondered, sometimes, what that might say about him.) But unlike most of Zack's, this wasn't the old, worn version that was faded practically to lavender, ripped and threadbare from years of abuse and washing and a few trips around the world. No, this was one of the black, formal issue uniforms for SOLDIERs First Class. It was a teeny bit outdated in style, but not noticeably to anyone who wasn't actively looking for it. The embroidered silver moons of Cloud's rank seemed out of place, if only because Cloud had spent time personally, laboriously removing Zack's twin planets.

The soft but durable cloth whispered over his skin, followed by the stiff, matte black leather of the belts and suspenders, boots and gloves. Cloud had been wearing the gloves and boots for this uniform—the SOLDIER battle uniform—since they'd been issued, trying to break in the leather. Despite his best efforts, the leather was obviously less worn than that of his custom weapon harness. Even SOLDIER's harnesses weren't designed for a monster like Ultima Weapon, so Cloud was using his own custom made harness that had traveled with him through much of the trip to save the world. The well-tended but obviously well-used leather was a contrast to his new finery, but Cloud found the combination of new and old soothing, especially once he added his Materia-laden Mystile.

Staring at himself in the small mirror, Cloud felt something was missing. It wasn't something major—he was clean, dressed, armed, and armored—but he still hesitated a moment before considering his pre-dawn preparations complete. He pulled out the small jewelry box he'd found in his room. He'd left most of his and Zack's belongings up at the house, but he'd brought a few of them in this little box, which he now rooted around in, letting his eyes play over the items, hoping he'd know what was missing when he saw it.

The first thing that jumped out at him was a pair of Zack's old earrings. Simple silver studs, Cloud remembered them as some of the older SOLDIER's most common accessories. Cloud had all kinds of accessories himself (his ribbon was tied around his arm even now), but these were special because they were **Zack's**, and now on the eve of battle, Cloud wanted to feel close to his lost friend. He put the earrings in, wincing a little—the backs of the holes had started to close up from not wearing anything in them since Galen reabsorbed his mini Holy Materia.

The other item that demanded he put it on was a long, soft chocobo feather hair ornament of the type worn by Wutaian warriors. It was a gold color even richer than his hair, black designs—characters, actually—painstakingly painted onto the surface. He didn't read Wutaian, but the simple, flowing shapes of the written language appealed to his aesthetic sense. A leather thong and some blood-red beads secured the feather in his hair between his eye and his ear on the right side where it joined his hair in framing his face. If he put it on the left, it would oppose the natural flow of his hair, and since he had a better chance of beating Jenova single-handedly than of making his hair do anything it didn't want to do on its own…

As he studied the final effect in the tiny piece of glass, feeling a niggling sense of deja vu, a pair of strong arms enfolded him from behind. Cloud sighed softly and leaned back against Sephiroth's chest as the older man nuzzled his throat, nosing aside the feather and drawing Cloud's earlobe into his mouth, piercing and all. Cloud shivered after a moment, drawing a little distance away. He was acutely aware of how little time they had left before they were due to report to their posts and how much Sephiroth's touch made him want to go back to bed and never leave.

Sephiroth chuckled softly in his ear. "All ready, Cloud?"

Cloud nodded slowly, shifting slightly so he could watch Sephiroth's face in the mirror. "Think so."

Sephiroth smiled a little, soft green eyes sliding halfway open. "Good. Soon, we'll be free of her so we can go on living our lives."

Cloud frowned. "But the Others…"

Sephiroth frowned too. "Don't worry about them. Focus on now. Focus on your hopes. We'll pull through. And then I'll be able to go back to taking you in a real bed."

Cloud stuck out his tongue at Sephiroth's gently teasing tone. "You're just bitter because your feet stick off the end of the cot."

"Damn straight." He grew solemn again. "You'll be careful." It wasn't a question—it was an order, a plea from a man who never begged for anything. Cloud nodded slowly.

"As much as I can be." He grimaced at Sephiroth's frustrated expression. "Sorry, but I'll do what I have to do."

Sephiroth scowled fiercely momentarily, but the expression quickly cleared into rueful acceptance. "I suppose you would not be you if you didn't give me heart attacks."

Cloud smirked. "You know you wouldn't have me any other way."

"I'll take you whatever way I can get you," Sephiroth responded, not meeting Cloud's eyes in the mirror and holding possessively tight to him. "Just come back to me when all this is through."

Cloud frowned and turned in his lover's arms, lifting a hand to sweep some of Sephiroth's long hair from his face so he could look him in the eyes, unobstructed. "Hey. I thought you were the one reassuring me. Gotta stick to the script, Seph."

"Script, huh?" Sephiroth asked, and Cloud nodded.

"Yep. Says so right there before the dramatic climax—the handsome general reassures his dashing young lover that everything's gonna be okay. Whereupon the dashing young lover reminds the handsome general that he's fought before and even saved the world once. The handsome general is a little embarrassed, but doesn't let go of the dashing young lover, which is okay. Because, whatever he may say, the dashing young lover is still nervous and in need of reassurance."

Sephiroth smirked. "Well, the details need some work, but the plot has promise. I wonder who they'll cast in our roles when the movie comes out."

Cloud giggled. "Maybe we'll retire from soldiering to play ourselves."

Sephiroth laughed. "Better not mention that to Colonel Andrews. I think he'd be most upset if you up and left the military. He's fond of you—everyone is." Sephiroth smiled softly at him, stroking his cheek. "You just have that effect on people."

Cloud shrugged a little, uncomfortable with having that particular fact pointed out. He knew he'd been treated differently from others practically since he'd set foot in Midgar. Well, he'd been treated differently in Nibelheim, too, but he tried not to think of his childhood. Memories were precious, yes, but those would only drag him down. But ever since coming to Midgar, he'd had two of the greatest SOLDIERs in Shinra looking after him. Zack had bent over backwards to make friends with him, while he was at a point in his life at which he trusted very few people. And Sephiroth…well, that hardly needed explanation. Cloud didn't really see what they saw in him. Oh, sure, **now** he was strong and fast and a good fighter, but then? He'd just been a jumpy, sullen wash-out from hickville.

But they had seen something in him, and Cloud would always be grateful. There were things he could have done without—Sephiroth going mad, Hojo's experiments, Zack's death, and so on—but mostly he was just happy to be here. Now. Holding his lover while the sky lightened to the color of graphite, and dressed for war.

And speaking of being dressed… "Shouldn't you be going back to your tent now? Getting ready?"

Sephiroth tugged lightly on the feather in his hair, bright Mako eyes casting strange shadows on his face. "Yes, I should, but…" He tilted his head to rest his cheek on Cloud's wild hair. "Just one more minute."

How could Cloud say no to that? Sephiroth was so nice and warm, all that hard muscle and soft skin folded around him, cool hair falling around them like a curtain. It was only one more minute. Just one last moment of peace before the battle.

Cloud looped his arms around Sephiroth's shoulders and listened to the quiet synchrony of their hearts beating.

* * *

Hi, again!

Hope everyone liked this chapter. The first few incarnations I hated, but now I think I kind of like it. A lot gets done, a lot that needed to be done, and I think I managed not to go overboard with data-dump. I hope. I know it's a problem of mine…

Anyway, keep those reviews rolling in! I have to bribe my creative impulses away from DMC (which I love, despite its shameless corniness). All help toward that end is appreciated. I also have yet another FFVII fic brewing in the back of my head, though I want to finish this before I go haring off into yet another epic project… With my luck, I'd get the worlds mixed up!

So! Comments and questions gratefully accepted. I'll even try to answer questions, for once, in messages and replies to reviews. (There've been a lot of really good questions, lately.) Love ya all!

--Akuma no Tsubasa


	22. Battlefield Epiphany

*slinks into frame* Hi, everyone.

So, I suck and am the **worst** at making regular updates. Or even updates at all. I want to thank all my wonderful reviewers for leaving such amazing feedback (or even just an 'update soon!'). You've all kept me going.

So now for your payoff. My New Year's Resolution for 2011 was to finally finish this fic. Unfortunately, I'm going to miss that by a couple of days. But I'm posting this chapter now, and the remaining two chapters are essentially complete, pending me actually going back and proof-reading/touching up. You can expect them within the next few days.

You've waited long enough—go read!

* * *

Hacking down one last monster that had made it into the trenches, Cloud glanced around for any other targets. Finding none, he loosed a slow breath, letting it carry the tension out with it. He didn't know how long he'd been fighting. The monstrous army Jenova had assembled was enormous and came at them in the hundreds, fighting on sheer animal instinct and Jenova-laced malice. The fighting was artless, no time for fancy techniques or anything but chopping down any target that presented itself. It felt rather like trying to fight back the sea as wave upon wave crashed over their lines. Some of the men fell to the rising tide of thrashing, hideous death; but many, many more of the monsters were killed or driven back upon the madness of the next wave and torn apart by their frenzied compatriots.

The breather now was more than welcome. Cloud quickly scraped off the worst of the gore from his weapon before flicking it up onto his back and ignoring the pull of strained muscles as he did so. The slight discomfort would fade in a few minutes, thanks to his accelerated healing, as would the bruises and scrapes that were all the damage he'd taken so far. Strange to have a whole army of monsters gunning for him, yet be so completely unaffected.

Others around him were not quite so lucky, though, and he moved among them, casting healing spells on the worst injuries, and giving potions and ethers to the lesser ones. He offered reassurance and praise to everyone, proud of how well they had all done. Cloud himself had never faced so many at once—AVALANCHE preferred to pick its battles a little more wisely, seldom encountering more than a handful of enemies at a time, and even in his hazy memories of Wutai, things had never been this bad. Though of course those memories were suspect, and he couldn't be entirely sure. Whatever the case, he was a little astounded to see how well they'd actually done. They'd only had five fatalities, and eight serious injuries. There were numerous other injuries, but even so, less than twenty were no longer able to fight across all three companies. Considering the intensity of the fighting, that was pretty damn good.

Cloud twitched at a crackle in his helmet—the radio coming on. The electronic map displayed inside his visor updated simultaneously, now showing a deceptively small red star, the agreed-upon marker for Jenova herself.

"You got the update, Strife?" Andrew's voice came over the radio, quiet and chatter-free. A one-to-one connection, then; no one else knew yet.

"Yes, Colonel," Cloud responded quietly.

"We're sending Sephiroth forward, but from her current speed and heading, she'll beat him pretty substantially. Same with AVALANCHE. You're going to have to hold her until they get there—unless you've figured out how to kill her?"

Cloud shook his head, though Andrews couldn't see it. "No, sir. I wish. But don't worry. We're doing pretty well out here, and she's coming at almost a full SOLDIER battalion's worth of guys whose purpose for being here is to take her down. A battalion was all it took to take the Wutai capital, after all."

"Plus a brigade of Regulars," Andrews reminded pessimistically. "And it took a division to hold on to Wutai and an Army to mostly pacify the country." He took a steadying breath.

"But your point is taken. You're as well off as you can be, and there's nothing I can do at this point, anyway. Just… For my sake, make it through this—I don't want to be the one explaining to Sephiroth how I got his lover killed."

Cloud chuckled. "Of course. I don't plan on going anywhere."

"Good," Andrews responded seriously, his solemnity at odds with his earlier half-hearted joking. "I'll give the word to your commanders, now. Good luck, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir."

The line clicked as it closed, then clicked again as it reopened. This time, Cloud could hear the sounds of quickly cut-off conversation, breathing, somewhere even a soft sound of pain.

"Men," Andrews said after a beat. "Please notice your maps have been updated with a new target and its projected path." No one wanted to say Jenova's name over the comms, and maybe it was superstitious, but like military men from the dawn of time, once they got it in their heads, it stuck. And Cloud couldn't deny he was a little more comfortable facing this without her name being bounced around like a tennis ball over the radio and in his ears. Anxiety was already doing a pretty fair imitation in his suddenly hollow belly, and didn't need any help.

"This will be difficult. Reinforcements are on the way, but they will not arrive until significantly after the enemy does. You'll have to hold them off yourselves until they get there. Remember—everything depends on this, on you. Do your best, then do just a little more. We'll see you on the other side. Andrews out."

The radio clicked as Andrews left the link, and Cloud sighed quietly. "Okay, guys. I'm crap at rallying speeches—I'm sure Cid's told the whole world by now—so I'll keep this short. We know what we have to do: kill that bitch one way or another. We don't quite know how to do that, but there it is. There's nowhere to go, and every civilian life in Midgar, even the Planet, is depending on us. It's overwhelming and it sucks, but we'll do it. Sephiroth and AVALANCHE are headed our way to help us take her out. We have only to hold until then. And we'll succeed because we have to. And dammit, we'll teach that ugly space bitch not to screw with the human race!"

Murmured agreements and nods all around met this pronouncement, and Cloud felt a warm glow of pride as he turned off his comm equipment. That hadn't been so bad, really. Short and to the point, and he got to call Jenova a bitch twice in a two minute span. Hopefully the fight would go so well. Smile slipping from his features, he turned to face in the direction from which she would approach. He grabbed a last gulp of lukewarm water and stretched out his arms a little, settling in to wait for the next wave of foes, wondering if it would hold Jenova herself. The thought both terrified and thrilled him—he was sane enough to be frightened of her immense power, but the hunger for **vengeance** filled him with determination and excitement (and maybe, just a small part of him still cried out for Reunion).

All he knew for certain was that, one way or another, the final result would soon be known. And either way, the end would be a relief. So let her come; he would figure out a way to end her once and for all or die trying. For himself, for Sephiroth and all those who had suffered under her, for the Planet and all its inhabitants down to the last blade of grass… He would fight.

* * *

By the time Sephiroth made it forward, the front lines had been driven back almost a mile to meet him. If he flicked his comm equipment over to the distress frequencies, he could hear the cries of the injured or those calling out on their behalf. He didn't, not wanting to listen to the evidence of the damage already done to the brave defenders of Midgar, and secretly dreading hearing Cloud's voice in the clamor. Or worse, **missing** it.

But, while he could keep his radio from registering the carnage, his six senses were full of the evidence of slaughter. He heard cries of pain and war whoops and could feel and sense the charge in the air that spoke of spells and souls fled back to the Lifestream. He could smell and even taste blood and death on the air, both the metal-sharp salt of natural creatures and the cloying tang of Mako-laden monsters. The ground was torn and scorched in places, and bodies both living and dead lay on it like toys scattered by a careless child's hand. He saw no violent shock of blond hair, and felt relief, even as he tried to squelch the knowledge that Cloud was probably wearing his helmet. (Sephiroth wasn't, having never liked them in the least. He wore only a specially made headset radio. He had tied his hair back in a severe braid in deference to the oppressive heat and the rigors of combat, even though he seldom did so, and the headset's spindly but strong headband had been incorporated into the hairstyle to help hold it in place, a technique he'd mastered in Wutai.)

He and his men moved forward, doing their best to ignore the signs of violence and death around them, knowing they had duties elsewhere. The medics would fight their battles today, but the men and (few) women of SOLDIER were needed for a more conventional—albeit, superpowered—brand of warfare.

The ongoing battle cries and a spectacular series of spells going off not too far away drew them to where the ongoing battle raged most fiercely. Combined with the way every cell in his body yearned forward, aching for _Mother_, he knew Jenova was there. He paused, his men following his lead and coming to an orderly halt. His senior officers and NCOs moved up to confer with him, readying themselves for their final orders. Looking into their calm, professional faces, he was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He had been MIA and presumed dead for five years, then a clone of him had tried to destroy the whole world. Yet, here were his SOLDIERs, some of whom he'd known since Wutai, some he'd known through Zack, some he'd never known personally, some who had joined after his little…fit. And here they were, placing their trust in him, allowing him to lead them, possibly to death or worse.

"She's here," he said quietly, watching the flinches behind their eyes, carefully hidden by the stony masks of their faces. They were afraid—professional troops or not, Jenova was the sort of opponent anyone sane would fear. Even Sephiroth was battling nerves he hadn't felt since his first campaign. Still, the fear was kept in check by the knowledge of how important it was that they win, and even as he saw that spark of mortal terror flash behind their eyes, he saw it steady into the cold flames of determination. The fighting spirit was strong in these SOLDIERs, and he was grateful.

"I don't know why each of you is here, but I want you to focus on that reason right now. This is it—there will be no second chances if we don't win this right here, right now. Do your best, then do better. We'll make her pay for **daring** to believe she could take our world. This is a battle two thousand years in the making. Let's make sure that this time we really end it."

Nods all around met his impromptu speech, and he smiled at these brave fighters given to him to lead, probably to death, but hopefully also to victory. He rolled his eyes at himself. "All right, men—enough of Sephiroth the Melodramatic." A chuckle rippled through them. "Let's get to work—there's killing to be done, and we have a Planet to defend."

"All in a day's work!" chimed someone from the ranks, inducing another smattering of laughter.

Then the group turned as one toward the eye-tearing boil of light that signaled another major spell going off. Sephiroth drew out his sword, hearing others unlimbering their own weapons with a creak of leather and the hiss of live steel. He paused for a moment, feeling anticipation build in him and the men behind him, like hunger or arousal. He was a SOLDIER, was **born** to be a SOLDIER, and combat was what he did. Even with the prospect of death looming over him, more real than ever before, the fear had retreated to leave only excitement.

With a roar, he started forward, long legs carrying him effortlessly up the rise that blocked them from direct sight of the battlefield, though careful scouts had already told him where everything was. The snarl of his troops soon drowned his own voice in a rumble like thunder, merging with the drumming of dozens of fully armed and armored SOLDIERs running in a full charge.

Then they were over the rise, right in the teeth of a group of especially hideous enemy monsters, and there was no more time for deep thoughts. Every SOLDIER present became a whirlwind of death, carving a swath of gore through their opponents, but none more so than Sephiroth. His mind was cool and clear of all distractions, only his singing sword, the crunch of bone beneath his hands, and the awareness of his two greater goals—Jenova and Cloud. Jenova's towering figure was easy to see and sense, but he also just **knew** where Cloud was. Not far from Jenova, predictably enough. He bent his footsteps toward them, blasting a clump of monsters out of his way with a fire spell as he went. Nothing would stand between him and his goal now.

The Demon of Wutai was back on the field.

* * *

Cloud crouched momentarily in the sticky mud, trying to catch his breath and shake out his burning, aching muscles. Rather than use magic to recuperate, he downed a potion to heal his relatively minor injuries and help ease the burn of lactic acid build up in his stressed limbs. When a man as enhanced as he was experienced major muscle fatigue, things just weren't going well.

To be honest, it could be worse. So far, casualties had been rather light, if gruesome when they occurred. The problem was that Jenova didn't seem to be taking much real damage either, and she definitely didn't seem to wear down. The earth below her seemed to power her, albeit with a shriek of protest that moaned at the edge of his hearing and lingered there to give him a headache no potion could dissolve away.

The defenders had adopted a tag team strategy to keep up with the juggernaut that bore down on them. Cloud and Sephiroth took turns at close quarters combat, and each turn spent at range was divided into a recuperation phase and a magical attack phase. They didn't have time to heal each other, having to trust that the other could manage, or that one of the others would be able to heal anything truly bad in time. And there were plenty of others, AVALANCHE and SOLDIER working together to take turns against Jenova and to help keep the area free of her small-fry. Their attack shifts were necessarily shorter, but they tended to cycle in groups of four to six combatants so they had more chance to rest and attack indirectly. Ranged combatants like Barret, Yuffie, and Vincent generally remained at range, keeping up a fairly steady barrage of distant attacks, though Vincent focused on any high-priority targets, and Yuffie occasionally had to dart in to scoop up Conformer if it ricocheted badly and didn't return to her. The _Highwind_ led a rag-tag band of airships with disproportionately large weapons on strafing runs, mostly on the packed masses of the minions to avoid a friendly-fire incident. They also were convenient platforms from which Materia-laden fighters could cast.

Cloud took a breath and scooted to a different bit of cover, loosing a Shadow Flare as he went to open up his magical attack phase. Jenova of course retaliated with a hail of ice shards that would have sliced him to ribbons if he'd been any slower. Fortunately, even tired as he was, he was damned quick and escaped any harm. He was able to peek out at Sephiroth to gauge his condition better than Shinra's admittedly useful tech could. The general was still fighting and moving well, though he was using a series of attacks that were designed to conserve energy, a sign that he wasn't unaffected by the awful grind this fight had become. Cloud scooted again, this time shooting a Comet before dropping into a muddy trench for shelter from the cloud of poison gas Jenova released in his direction. His helmet protected his eyes and filtered out most of the worst, and the Ribbon warded off the rest, though a direct hit wouldn't have done him any good. He popped up again to run right past the monster and launched a mimed version of the last attack Sephiroth had executed—slash all, to take out a bunch of extra snappy tentacles. He followed with a Flare as he got out to range again, and hunkered into the shadow of a crushed earth-mover.

Unexpectedly, Sephiroth's voice came over the radio, cool as always, though breathing a little fast. "Stay put, Strife. AVALANCHE, I need Alexander now." After a beat, Nanaki's voice came back in the affirmative, and the sky began to darken. The Holy-elemental summon shook the earth with its emergence, but Cloud's attention was occupied by Sephiroth suddenly touching down beside him, sharing cover. The general leaned close to him to shout over the roar of Alexander's incoming fire, not using the radio to keep their conference just between the two of them, for the moment.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Sephiroth announced. "I can't find any real weak spots, and she's not wearing down fast enough. We need a new plan."

Cloud nodded. "I don't know about weaknesses, but she's pulling strength from the Planet. We could try to keep her in the same spot so where she is is depleted and she can't recharge any more."

"Alright," Sephiroth agreed. "Any word from Tseng or Reno on countermeasures?"

"Nothing." Sephiroth's face was as grim as Cloud felt, lit eerily in the light of the summoned destruction. Cloud readied his sword. "My turn. Try to think of something else to try if this doesn't work. I'll do the same."

Sephiroth nodded curtly, and Cloud launched himself over the earth-mover to begin his attack phase, and the next few minutes were a blur of sweat and steel and Jenova shrieking at him physically and psychically.

Keeping her in one place was easier said than done. For one thing, she was huge and unbelievably strong. Any human being, even one as powerful as he was, couldn't hope to stand his ground before her might. Instead, he circled erratically, trying to keep her from catching on right away, while still inducing her to stay in a limited area. As Sephiroth began adding his magical assistance, he noticed the general's spells were selected in such a way as to herd her just a bit, helping Cloud keep her contained. No orders went out on the radios, but the SOLDIERs nearby were well trained, and they adjusted their methods bit by bit, one individual at a time, to reflect their ranking officer's tactics. After a few more rotations, all the SOLDIERs present had caught onto the strategy, even if they did not understand the reasons for it.

AVALANCHE, meanwhile, fought as they had learned—hit hard, hit fast, always go for the kill. Their relentless pressure, as well as their varying styles and effortless transitions between physical and magical combat kept Jenova well occupied while the SOLDIERs fenced the alien in.

Unfortunately, Jenova could not remain clueless forever. Cloud saw the exact moment she became aware of their tactic, when she took a heavy beating from a Comet 2, and the earth on which she stood could not offer up any power with which she could heal. The roar she uttered was deafening, literally loud enough to make unprotected ears ring. Sephiroth, on the offensive at the moment, fell back, left hand clapped over his ear and shaking his head as though to clear it. Cloud sprinted forward to take his place at the forefront so the Bitch wouldn't escape during Sephiroth's moment of weakness.

The next few minutes were desperate as Jenova tried to push through their lines. Cloud saw Tifa get thrown across the field and gritted his teeth, willing her to be okay, though he could not currently spare the time to find out. Sephiroth bounded up to join Cloud after a few moments, and Cloud caught a whiff of potion from him. The general was still apparently a bit deaf, but the thin stream of blood winding from his ear all appeared to be drying, and he was all the more fierce in combat for the pain.

Through sheer determination and the weight of men and magic they threw at her, the defenders were able to prevent Jenova from breaking out through their line. But losses were ghastly. Up until this point, things had been going rather well for them in terms of losses, but dozens of SOLDIERs died due to Jenova's maddened assault, and the few Regulars in the area stood no chance at all. Oddly, her minions began to fall apart, no longer advancing as a living wave, but as uncoordinated little clumps that were fairly easy to mop up. Some even turned away from the defenders in an attempt to run and were cut down.

When they had Jenova's mad flailing under control again Cloud fell back to rest for a few minutes. He saw a medic tending to Tifa in a precariously forward location, but that seemed to be the only option at the moment, and he was happy to see she was alive, though the sight of an arm bone poking out through the flesh was nauseating. She was clearly out of the fight, no matter how she protested—no magic yet had been able to heal a displaced fracture in less than a couple of weeks, and given her combat style, she would only get herself killed if she tried to fight anyway. She could fall back and support the casters, though, once she calmed down. At least she was still ambulatory.

Cloud downed another potion, wincing at how fast he was going through them, and an ether. There was nothing he could do for his friends that wasn't already being attended to by the medics, so he would return to the fight. His heart twisted as he passed by one of the SOLDIERs with his helmet off, tears streaming over his cheeks and head bowed over clasped hands as he prayed over the mangled corpse of what had been a fellow SOLDIER. Too many were dying, yet the pain of those who remained had to be set aside until the battle was won. Still, the image stuck in his head, maybe because it so closely echoed Aeris's final moments, maybe just because it was so sad, and it lingered as he rejoined the fray.

Omnislash came readily to him as he approached Jenova, anger and grief making his arms strong and quick. Jenova roared in pain as he struck, and flailed her tentacles at him, trying to force him away. He dodged and settled down into a more conservative series of strikes, occasionally using a skill like Deathblow to deal a little extra damage, or Big Guard to help evade or soften the hits she landed.

Unexpectedly, he felt a presence at his back, and he whirled to face it. One of Jenova's minions had penetrated past the defensive zone the Regulars were maintaining around the majority of the fight. It actually seemed more disoriented and filled with animal terror than bloodthirsty and violent, but Cloud hacked it apart anyway, unable to take the risk.

But it had distracted him too long. A thick tentacle from the main body slammed him in the back, throwing him bodily across the battlefield until he fetched up against some obstacle hard enough to wrench his neck and ring his bell good. Her triumphant cry echoed in his ears and his blood, and he realized he could **feel** her hatred for him, her pleasure at swatting him hard enough to kill any unenhanced. But he could also feel Sephiroth's sick rage and welling despair, could hear his voice rising above the battlefield in a sound that didn't seem like it should come from a human throat. Everything echoed in his ears, too loud, too much, and he rolled over onto his side to vomit, forgetting about his helmet and mask until he was already heaving. He wrenched the protective gear off with one last effort before he passed out.

His mind chose to replay the sight of the SOLDIER praying over his broken friend a couple times, blurring into Aeris at the altar, himself kneeling over Zack's still body, Vincent/Ifalna glowing in the hospital ward. The images were dizzying and far too intense, like the light stabbing at his concussed brain, like Jenova trying even now to worm her way into his body and mind. Old memories, more than half-forgotten, almost lost to time and torture and Jenova, floated to the surface.

_Cloud sat on the table swinging his feet and watching his father organize his notes and tuck them away. He was sad to watch the pretty pictures get put away, but he was hungry and Papa had promised he would explain what he was working on at home anyway._

_ At home, Papa talked about one of the pictures, but it was the boring one with circles. Cloud didn't know why his father liked that one so much—even __**he**__ could draw a circle, if Mama would give him a marker and a can. Papa smiled at him, though and ruffled his hair._

_ "Ah, my boy. It may be simple, but it's very important. Everything is a circle. That's how I know if I know an entire process—if I cannot see how it is a circle, I still have more to learn."_

_ Cloud frowned. "But you know everything, Papa!"_

_ Papa smiled. "No, Cloud, not yet. But the learning is half the fun."_

Cloud woke, pushing himself away from the puddle of puke by reflex, and spitting the lingering taste from his mouth. His heart ached for his father—he had forgotten so much, but he had known his father was a scientist and a good man, that his passion for learning had been what made Cloud want to do science. Now here he was, a SOLDIER. He wondered what his father would have thought of him now.

Now wasn't the time to dwell on it, though. He heard Sephiroth fighting somewhere not too far away, position made obvious by Masamune's singing blade, and Cloud needed to rejoin the fight. His helmet was in bad shape—the way it had deformed made it clear that it had saved his life—and he could no longer wear it, even disregarding the fact he had puked in it. He carefully turned his head to locate Ultima Weapon, then crawled over to it. He used the sword to lever himself halfway upright, but there was stabbing pain in his head and the darkness again took him.

_Cloud was taught to always ask when he had questions, though it was a lesson he had put aside years later when he joined Shinra, and actively resisted once Jenova had made his mind a minefield of painful and frightening inconsistencies._

_ Even though he was always supposed to ask, he also knew he was supposed to wait until Papa was done praying to ask. Papa didn't like to be interrupted, though he was always very gentle in his disapproval. So Cloud waited with as much patience as he could manage, though he was a thoughtful child and was better at it than most. Not like rambunctious Tifa who always wanted everything right __**now**__, or Johnny, who would throw tantrums if he didn't get the attention he wanted._

_ Finally, Papa looked up, unclasping his hands and smiling at Cloud. "Yes, Cloud?"_

_ Suddenly shy, Cloud scuffed his shoe against the floor. He felt like he should already know the answer to his question and he felt a little silly asking, but Papa always told him to ask anyway, so he did. "Um, why do we pray, Papa?"_

_ Papa blinked at him as though the question had surprised him. Then he smiled. "Because it is good for us."_

_ Cloud frowned. "Like lima beans?" He really hated lima beans._

_ But his father laughed and shook his head. "No, not like lima beans. Praying is good for our spirits. It keeps us close to the Planet so we know when something is wrong. It keeps us close to each other, so we can be there for our family and friends. And it helps us know with our minds what we know with our spirits, so that we can make good choices and be strong no matter what."_

_ Cloud frowned again, wheels turning in his head. "So it makes us good?"_

_ "Not exactly. It helps the goodness inside us reach the outside. It helps us be healthy, active members of our community and the Planet, and it sometimes lets the Planet make us stronger than we could ever be on our own. It's part of a circle, Cloud. __**We**__ are all part of the circle."_

_ Cloud pulled a face at his father's talk of circles again. He wasn't a baby—he didn't need the same explanation every time. But the thought was intriguing. "Is anything not part of it?"_

_ Papa tilted his head in the way that meant he was thinking very hard. "I don't know, son. If there is anything outside the circle, it must be a very pathetic existence indeed. Or very terrible."_

_ "Oh." He paused. "Papa, what's 'pathetic?'"_

Cloud came to awareness again, feeling hands lift his head and tasting potions in his mouth. The ground shook with Alexander's distinctive attack. He could hear Jenova screaming in his head again, renewed rage and vigor clamoring at his mind, and he thought maybe he could sense just a little bit of...fear?

"Cloud," Sephiroth's voice was right above him. "Cloud, are you awake? Cloud?" He sounded worried and scared, and Cloud forced his eyes open to look up at the general bending over him. He looked almost as worried as he sounded.

Cloud managed a grunt in response, mind racing. Jenova was in his head while he remembered, and she had been frightened by **something** in that memory. But what?

"_Virga knew,"_ Ifalna had said. Cloud's head hurt like the devil's own dance troupe was clogging right on top of his brain, but he knew he had the answer. A terrible existence outside the natural circle of existence could only be Jenova. Prayer was the way people, even mere humans, could be closer to the Planet and the Circle. Aeris's prayer had brought forth Holy before. Prayer plus a Holy Materia had cured Vincent's body of Jenova cells.

"Holy," he breathed, looking up at Sephiroth, who was nearly frantic. "I know how to defeat Jenova."

* * *

Hi, again.

A little on the short-ish side, I know, but that was where the chapter wanted to break. I hope it was enjoyable.

I do enjoy writing fight scenes **so much**. An unhealthy thing, I'm sure, but all the best relationships in any fandom seem to either have some canonical epic battle or characters that would just make the best battle scene ever. *points at AC Cloud and Sephiroth* Who needs squashy romance when you can have swords and explosions with a side of romance (I say as I'm nearing the end of 220+ pages of epic romance, 350+ if you count _CAN_)? Mind games a plus.

And now, for anyone interested in my excuses—wow, between work and deciding I absolutely had to learn to play an instrument (cello *heart*), all my spare time and creative inclination has been soaked up elsewhere. Fortunately, I'm apparently pretty good at cello, but I keep slaking my Final Fantasy cravings by playing things on it, rather than writing. So sorry!

Anyway, please let me know what you think, and buckle up! The remainder of this is really going to fly!

Humbly yours,

-Akuma no Tsubasa


	23. Holy War

Hi, everyone!

Here it is! The moment we've all been waiting for—the climax of the battle with Jenova! Therefore, I'll save my rambling for later.

* * *

Reeve seemed skeptical of the strategy Cloud had relayed to him over the radio—he wasn't generally a superstitious person, after all. But Tseng had been intrigued and Reno thought it sounded reasonable, which meant it was just crazy enough to work. Maybe. The two Cetra had come forward to the front lines while Cloud and Sephiroth worked to get the SOLDIERs into the rough formation they would use to make this successful. There had been some comments that maybe Cloud had knocked his head just a little too hard, but everyone pretty much obeyed. Any idea, no matter how crazy, was better than the complete lack of ideas they'd had to date.

Of course, Jenova **had** been in his head when he realized the general gist of what they had to do to take her down, and she was being absolutely as disruptive to it as she could be. Her attacks had a strange hesitation to them that in any other opponent would make him wonder if perhaps she was thinking about retreating. It seemed unbelievable, but if she knew he had the tools now to harm her, maybe destroy her, maybe she would try. Who knew how she would think, an alien being as old as humankind? Though she had occasionally spoken to them in the past, usually she did so through some intermediary, which put a little bit of mental distance between her and what was actually said. Even Sephiroth didn't claim to completely understand her.

Despite her efforts to escape, the grim and desperate SOLDIERs that remained were very determined to keep her here. They weren't able to keep her over completely depleted ground, but they were able to contain her within territory she had already drained at least a bit, which seemed to slow her down some. Meanwhile, the SOLDIERs, AVALANCHE, and the Cetra were moving into an oblong pincer shape, something roughly the shape of a crab's claw, closing in on both sides of her. Cloud and Sephiroth took turns fighting her, and danced around her in necessarily erratic patterns, but they still anchored the sharp points of the pincers, the two strong points directly in contact with the monster.

Circles. Everything was a circle. It would be easier if they could just surround her and take care of things that way, but Cloud suspected that they had to force her into being part of the circle. The whole problem with Jenova was that she stood outside the normal cycle of life and death that the whole rest of the Planet obeyed, and by being outside, she wreaked havoc on everything she touched. But if they could channel the power of Holy—the power of the Cycle made manifest—directly through her, surely the result would be like when Ifalna channeled Holy through Vincent's body.

No more Jenova.

Or so he hoped. He was uncomfortably aware that he was just winging things, at this point, but there was nothing else he could do. A chance, any chance, had to be seized, because the defenders wouldn't last much longer at this rate. Cloud was trying to block out all awareness of just how many were dying, but just looking across the field and seeing the number of bodies told the tale. Some had been recovered to be disposed of with the proper respect once everything was over, but most simply couldn't be. Corpses had been torn apart by the hordes, or stepped on and pulped by Jenova herself.

At least she hadn't reanimated their dead flesh, as Cloud half-feared she could. That would probably set an awful lot of the remaining forces to running as far and fast as they could. Hell, he'd be tempted to run, himself. There was just something so unsettling, so unnatural and ungodly powerful about her...

Angrily, he shook his head, focusing on the goal. That stupid head injury was doing bad things to his attention, and he suspected that Jenova was actively trying to distract him. Not that it mattered anymore—they were committed, and one look across the way to Sephiroth confirmed it. Cloud had only seen that icy, absolute focus when he was on the wrong end of Masamune, but seeing it now finally gave him the confidence he'd been searching for.

They were going to win.

Jade eyes cut to him momentarily, but the worry that flashed through them was brief. Sephiroth saw his determination, and visibly decided to trust that Cloud knew his own limits. He offered a solemn nod of recognition, and Cloud knew the time was right.

Now.

Both SOLDIERs lunged at Jenova simultaneously. Previously, they had taken care to stagger their shifts to make it through the long, bloody grind of the battle, but now they worked together with a synchrony that was probably only possible for a Clone and his Master. Cloud could feel the cool hum of Sephiroth's thoughts in the back of his mind, more sensed than read, and his limbs obeyed as fluidly as if he were the puppet he had once been called.

Jenova visibly recoiled at their changed tactics, but her hesitation was short lived. Tentacles rose to slap at them, and a few of her more tenacious creatures snapped and snarled and tried to kill them. The remaining SOLDIERs and AVALANCHE mostly took care of the pests, and Sephiroth and Cloud grimly hacked off any limb she raised against them. There was no way they could keep this up for long—Cloud could already feel how the point of his sword was wandering the tiniest fraction as fatigued muscles struggled to keep going. Those Cetra better hurry. Maybe he and Sephiroth had launched their offensive too soon...?

"Almost there," Reno's voice crackled through the radio just as the blond began to seriously worry. Reaching out with his senses, Cloud realized he could feel the power the Cetra were pulling slowly, painfully, determinedly from the Planet. Jenova's shriek let them know that she had also detected Holy's nascent power slowly blossoming into existence. The towering alien finally did the one thing no wound or spell had previously forced her to do—she backpedaled. A wild cry erupted from the throats of the fighters, but it was no victorious cheer. It was a bloodthirsty howl, animalistic and feral, as men and women who had been pushed too far, watched their friends die around them, tasted victory and vengeance within their reach.

Sephiroth darted behind Jenova's bulk to cut off her avenue of retreat, while Cloud continued to hack away at her front, deliberately trying to appear like he was running out of steam—definitely not too hard to do. In planning for this scenario, he had hoped she would find the combination of Sephiroth's biting sword and the chance to eliminate the being that knew how to defeat her would be too tempting for her to pass up.

A fire spell going off in his face indicated she had taken the bait.

Eyes burning and smelling his own singed hair, Cloud retreated a few steps. Jenova's fire, unlike that drawn from Materia, tasted acrid and foul. It reminded him painfully of Nibelheim, and he snarled as he stepped back again. The desire to fight was strong, but his falling back was built into the plan. He had to get her into position, to get her where the pincer could close not around her, but on her; to make her step into the last empty space in the circle.

Jenova, blessedly, followed. Her hatred and fury filled his mind, pressing down on him like a lead-lined blanket. Cloud half-tripped over a stone, so intent was he on exactly where she was in relation to the forces he had on hand for this, and his deadly dance with the alien faltered. Her inhuman voice rose in a shriek of victory as she brought down a tentacle to dispatch her 'weakening' victim.

Recovering quickly, Cloud dodged aside at the last moment, taking his place at the point of the right pincer even as Sephiroth streaked into position on the left. As though they had done it a dozen times before, the Cetra finished pulling Holy into existence at that very moment, and the SOLDIERs and AVALANCHE-members forming the rest of the ring linked hands with an audible smack of gloved flesh meeting flesh. Cloud stabbed Ultima Weapon into the brutalized earth, reaching blindly back for the next SOLDIER's hand. The moment he made contact, he lunged again for Jenova, dragging the line of men behind him as he clawed for a grip on her slick hide. On her right flank, Sephiroth mirrored his actions.

For a moment, Cloud felt only the sick prickle of his own cells responding to Jenova's proximity, his mind shuddering at her suddenly much louder voice. He met Sephiroth's eyes for a suspended instant, seeing his set expression and the way his cat-slit pupils flickered wildly as he struggled against her influence. Then heat began to flow into Cloud, from his left hand, through his chest, before exiting his right hand and entering Jenova. She shrieked and redoubled her efforts to shake them loose, heaving like a mad thing. Cloud clenched his jaw and hung on even as the heat transmuted into agony—after the experience with Vincent and Ifalna, he'd been expecting it. Still, the hurt was growing ever stronger, and he could hear some of the other SOLDIERs hissing pained breaths through their teeth.

But the power kept coming, too, rising like a tide inexorably upward and passing into Jenova's alien form. Her translucent skin was starting to actually brown, and the reek of burning flesh rose from her. Her cries were absolutely inhuman, a pitch and power that made Cloud's ears ring, even as his own Jenova cells echoed her screams. He couldn't help but finally give voice to the pain bubbling up inside him. His body and mind both felt as if they were being turned inside out, his brains being scraped out of his skull and the inside of his brain-case being sandblasted to get rid of the taint.

The sounds rising from Sephiroth were almost as inhuman as Jenova's, and Cloud wondered what this must be doing to the other man. Even through his pain, he felt a surge of terror for his lover—Sephiroth had borne Jenova's taint his whole life, and her cells were an integral part of his being. Could he even survive without them?

It was weakness, but had he been able, Cloud would have stopped this right then. The consequences to Sephiroth had simply never occurred to him, but certainly they had to have occurred to Sephiroth himself. Yet the stubborn man had said nothing, had simply supported his plan and bullied the skeptics into at least getting out of the way, if they wouldn't help.

But as it was, he **wasn't** able to do anything. His voice was fully occupied with screaming, and his right hand had seized—he couldn't let go to break the circle even now that he wanted to. Holy power burned through him, searing at the contamination that was Jenova wherever it touched.

The circle of warriors, most crying out in pain, crowded closer to the struggling alien. Holy brought with it echoes of the thoughts of all the others. Cloud was in no condition to really pay attention to any of it, only kaleidoscope flashes passing before his awareness—the fear and wrath of the Cetra, the determination of AVALANCHE, the professionalism of the SOLDIERs, Sephiroth's suffering, and even the foreign taste of Jenova's own fear/rage/hate/hunger.

Cloud felt a moment's pity for her—monstrous as she was, and with as much suffering as she had caused, she was still a living being, self-aware and undoubtedly doing what her instinct or reason dictated. But for that reason, his heart hardened again, even as he felt her turn toward him with something like hope. She had choices, and those she had made set her against them, against their whole Planet. And where she had only instinct, her instinct was to destroy what they held dear. Living and sentient or not, that made her an enemy, and Cloud was a soldier—even if he pitied the enemy, it was his duty to stand against her.

As if it had been waiting for him to come to that decision, Holy surged. Before it had seemed to pour through him like a rising tide, but compared to its power now, that was a water fountain pitted against a fire hose. He lost consciousness almost immediately, but Sephiroth's blood-curdling cry followed him down into oblivion.

* * *

Sephiroth found himself floating in a vast expanse of starry nothingness. The pain that had been eating through body and mind had abated, and he relaxed into the emptiness to treasure the lack of the hurting. It was quiet and peaceful, and he was warm with one hell of a view. All he needed now was Cloud, and he could be content to float here forever.

But there was no Cloud, and he began to grow restless. Looking around himself, his eyes alighted on a round object below him. Even as he looked, puzzled, a star came out from behind it, momentarily dazzling Sephiroth's dark-adjusted eyes. When the spots had cleared, he saw that the orb was a planet, green and brown and blue and swirled with clouds. But the landmasses were all wrong, and he knew this was not **his** Planet. Looking more closely, he saw that the seas were just a bit greenish, and the vegetation had a sheen of purple he had never seen before.

Intrigued, he moved closer. The world was speckled with tumbled-down cities, and streaked with huge cracks and gouges. The clouds were tinted with brown and grey and sick green. Sephiroth realized it was dying, and felt a certain detached sadness for it. All things must die eventually, but it was still sad when something as great and ancient as a habitable world ended.

As he watched, the planet's rotation exposed a fresh crater, still glowing molten in the depths. It was large enough to mostly blot out a continent, and every forest on the remaining land was on fire. Most likely the cause of death, he imagined, morbidly fascinated by the way the sky started to darken with ejecta, and the land to split and crack, lava welling through the new wounds. The Lifestream of this world also bubbled up through its brutalized crust, gathering together at the terrible wound. A small winged form hovered at the center of the immense crater, and Sephiroth was startled to recognize Chaos. He looked a bit different, but Sephiroth knew it was Chaos.

_**A**__ Chaos_, something in him corrected, and he didn't know what to make of that, so he returned to watching. The Chaos was gathering the Lifestream into a giant pool in the bottom of the crater, and a strange shape began to crystallize at its center. It was towering, immense, and winged—a WEAPON, he somehow knew. But whereas he had always only known of WEAPONs as cherished defenders of the Planet, serving Its purposes as an extension of Its will, this WEAPON seemed to be at odds with its world. The dying planet struck out at the WEAPON, but it had lost so much of its strength to the WEAPON that it did no damage. Instead, it turned its attention to the Chaos hovering above the proceedings. A huge tongue of violently red Lifestream snaked up and slapped the Chaos to the ground. The creature wailed in pain, and its broken body dissolved into more red Lifestream. That energy flowed into the WEAPON, which suddenly began to collapse on itself.

Momentarily, Sephiroth thought the dying planet had managed to find a way to avoid its fate, but within a few minutes, the WEAPON stood up again from the pooling Lifestream. It looked different now, darker, with aspects of the fallen Chaos in it. It turned on the exhausted world, lashing out at it with such power that it cracked clear to the molten core. The planet died, all the remaining Lifestream rushing into the matricidal WEAPON, which tilted back its vaguely humanoid head and roared.

_Victory_, sang something in the back of Sephiroth's reeling mind. _Life_.

Jenova, he realized, feeling ill. That WEAPON was Jenova.

_"No," _that same voice deep inside him said. _"And yes. Watch."_

Sephiroth was dragged abruptly into the mind of the WEAPON. It was a frightening place, full of rage and power. The basic impulse to return to the cosmos itself and begin life anew was powerful, but the last desires of the terrified, angry, dying planet were foremost in its alien thoughts. It hadn't wanted to die, didn't want to rejoin the cosmic Cycle. Now the WEAPON made of its remaining life-force rebelled against its purpose, refusing the call of the cosmos. Why should it return, anyway? Why should any world that did not wish to die?

It decided it would help the other worlds, its sisters, to defy that cruel fate. It moved around its solar system, using that aspect of itself that was Chaos to reap the Lifestreams of the other worlds around it and gather it all to itself. It was almost destroyed by the WEAPON the gas giant in the system raised to protect itself. As it sat back to lick its wounds and assimilate more completely the power it had taken from the broken planets, it decided it was too dangerous to allow all of that energy to remain in one place—encountering a larger or stronger planet could end its rebellion against the cosmic order, as could any number of accidents and natural disasters.

So it fragmented itself, dividing into hundreds, thousands of smaller selves. Sephiroth was pulled into one of the Shards, and his sense of Jenova grew stronger. The Shards agreed amongst themselves upon their goal of saving their sister worlds from the eternal Cycle, destroying any among them that happened to disagree and devouring their energy. They would focus on smaller worlds, especially those with living organisms, and grow until they were strong enough to save larger worlds. Past a certain size they would Fragment again to continue the process, and if any Shard encountered difficulty saving a world, they would Call the others to Reunite until there was sufficient strength to carry out their mission.

Decided, the Shards dispersed, settling into long, cold slumber as they passed the ages between stars. And everywhere they stopped, they harvested the lives of whole worlds to take back with them to the stars.

_"A mission of mercy,"_ Jenova crooned in his mind. _"Salvation. Freedom from the endless Cycle of tragedy. Holy war against injustice."_

She directed his gaze outward, toward a tiny world growing steadily larger as they streaked toward it. This Shard rode a huge rock down from the heavens to crack the shell of its chosen target. Energy would flow to the wound, and the Shard would act as Chaos, gathering more and more until the final WEAPON appeared. Then they would merge and lift away from the empty husk of the planet.

Simple, neat, efficient. In only a few years the Shard would be done with this world and move on to its larger neighbors.

Only, it didn't quite work out that way.

This world was inhabited by a race that could actively speak to it, calling themselves 'Cetra.' These Cetra called the impact the Shard had created 'Jenova,' which meant 'Calamity from the skies' in their tongue. By extension, the Shard itself came to be called Jenova. But, despite classing it a 'calamity,' the Cetra were able to calm the Planet's pain and work to heal its wounds, and no final WEAPON—called Omega on this world—manifested.

Stymied, Jenova understood that she would have to take care of these Cetra before she could free the Planet from the Cycle. The Cetra themselves seemed to enhance and reinforce the Cycle, which could be handy. So Jenova began to subvert the Cetra, slowly, carefully infecting them with tiny shards broken off from her own being. Unexpectedly, her very presence inside them drove most Cetra mad with an unreasoning compulsion to act out her own destructive impulses on a more mortal scale. Murder and violence followed.

Jenova was an ancient being with a tremendous pool of experience and wisdom to draw upon in her need, and her planning proved to be as excellent in this case as might be expected. Her infected hosts often destroyed each other, or were destroyed by the few remaining 'pure' Cetra. And each time one died, it carried its tiny fragment of life force, colored with Jenova's influence, into the Lifestream. Over time, Jenova would be able to take over the Planet's Lifestream without even resorting to Chaos and Omega WEAPON.

After a while, her presence had profound effects on the Cetra. Some possessing her tainted essence were born who forsook the Cycle so antithetical to her. They abandoned the ways of the Cetra, and their ears were deaf to the cries of their mother Planet. They settled in places and took all the resources they could get with little thought for giving anything back. These were called 'Humans' and they were Cetra in form, but their spirits were partially Jenova's. They grew populous in all corners of the world, even as Jenova was driving their parent race into extinction.

But Jenova had failed to account for the full extent of the Cetra's desperation and their connectedness with the Cycle. Sacrificing many of their number, they called upon the raw power of the Cycle—Holy in its purest form—to seal Jenova out of the Lifestream. This would kill any creature they knew of, but Jenova was beyond their understanding. She was merely suspended, not dead, but she **was** unable to work her will upon the Planet. However, while this was a frustrating setback, she was ancient and patient.

For two thousand years she waited, until a scientist called Gast discovered her. She soon discovered that the current state of the world was far more agreeable to her. The Cetra had never recovered from what she did to them and hovered at the brink of extinction, while their human cousins had ascended to supremacy. Violent, greedy, grasping humans covered the world, inflicting wounds upon it that the Cetra would have shuddered to see.

When the humans began the SOLDIER experiments, she had allowed them to go forward, seeing an opportunity to further integrate herself among the humans in preparation for the final liberation of the Planet. The Sephiroth Project, initially arising from the early SOLDIER program, was her chance to make an avatar to ensure her plans came smoothly to fruition.

Unfortunately, even as she began to flex her metaphorical muscles in the world, she discovered that the humans had proven even more like her than she had imagined. They had, in a scant few decades, managed to do severe enough damage to the Planet and its ecosystems that Chaos already walked the world in his appropriately human host. She only discovered Vincent Valentine when the mother for her avatar-to-be was designated and bodyguards assigned. Jenova had no idea how the Planet and Omega WEAPON would react to having two Chaoses—herself and Valentine—so she arranged for him to be removed from her path.

It was child's play to twist the impulses of the man in charge of the Sephiroth Project—an otherwise unremarkable man called Hojo—so that he could be used as an inelegant weapon. Though Hojo wanted to kill Valentine, Jenova knew that if the host of Chaos should be killed, it would simply be incarnated anew, only she would have no way to tell where or when or in whom. So she had Hojo seal him away, using his delightful human vindictiveness and twisted ingenuity to partially replicate what had been done to her so long ago—suspended, apart from the Cycle, not dead, but only ever dreaming.

With that threat taken care of, she secured her grip on her beautiful son and settled back to wait until he reached physical maturity so they could free this world together. But when the time came, she discovered she had made a miscalculation. Because he had grown up largely free of her influence, except in the small matters of some of his powers and abilities, he harbored some of the more disgusting emotional vestiges of humanity's Cetra past—feelings like care, concern, honor, and self-sacrifice. His dedication to his duty and the protection of the lives around him rendered him unable to see the bigger picture, the inevitability of their demise and loss to the Cycle.

She began patiently picking at the entangling threads of such emotions, whispering Truths to him that no human would want to hear, eating away at what they called 'sanity' and she called delusion. She knew that one day his eyes would be opened. Given the life he lead as a battle-hardened General from a young age, isolated from those around him by his own prodigious talents and the control freaks who held power over him, some day he would come around.

However, once again her careful plans were almost derailed by the kind of chance occurrence that was so pathetically common in human lives.

Sephiroth fell in love.

As far as Jenova was concerned, her sweet son's beloved was hardly anything special. Mortal, physically more frail than many, perhaps a bit prettier and smarter than most, and male—even the instinctive need to procreate could not be blamed for Sephiroth's sudden obsession. And Sephiroth was well and truly smitten. Even the fling he had with that dark-haired friend had not had such effect, and it had been worrisome enough for how it distracted his attention from her Truths.

But what he felt for the blond boy was so much worse. There was nothing Sephiroth would not do for Cloud Strife. He used the boy's very presence as an anchor for that figment of societal expectation called sanity, and that absolutely would not do.

In the end, she had to resort to the kind of clumsy, high-handed methods she had hoped to avoid with her beautiful boy. Physical proximity combined with reading through the notebooks Hojo had been convinced to leave out at the Nibelheim lab had brought him to her side. Her joy at their Reunion was blemished only by his continued refusal to kill that weakness he called 'lover,'—fiancé, by that point.

That lingering affection had proven to be his downfall, as the unremarkable blond had managed to get in past Sephiroth's guard, to injure him and even throw him into the Mako reservoir in the Mt. Nibel reactor. He had even turned from her in those last moments, clinging stubbornly to the affection he felt for Strife.

Suspended in a pool of Mako, Jenova had grieved for her sadly flawed son. So much potential, squandered on some mere human. When Hojo had taken interest in the terribly injured boy as a research specimen, she had taken the opportunity to vent a little of her rage and frustration on him. He had taken her perfect son from her! So she made him suffer, squirm, cry, beg...only the more she did it, the more intrigued she became. He was of course a bit different from most humans, being from Nibelheim, but he was also rather Cetra-like in his responses to Mako. The fact that a little Mako and some of her cells had enabled him to contact her Sephiroth in the Lifestream was very interesting. Hojo had plans to clone her son, to make up for her loss by providing a replacement, and the Strife boy seemed like a good candidate.

Sadly, some of the things she had done to him in her wrath, combined with his own personality and Cetra-like aspects eventually made him unsuitable as a Clone. Still, with so much of her within him, perhaps he could be brought around to her side. If he came to Reunion, perhaps she could shape him into something more suitable and make him a gift to her brilliant boy.

_"You see?"_ her voice curled into Sephiroth's mind. _"I was thinking only of you. The boy was an obstacle before, but now he is part of us. He has proven himself worthy,"_ flashes of their various battles flickered before his mind's eye. _"So if you want to bring him with us on our mission, I have no objection. He will be an asset when we turn our attention to saving other worlds, I am sure."_

To his shame, Sephiroth felt himself waver. If Jenova would give him Cloud, then the rest of the world, while a sad loss, was immaterial. It had to end sometime, and Jenova would be preserving its life force for all time to come. So it would not be true death...

He shook his head. Such self-serving, rationalizing, cowardly thoughts were beneath him! Jenova could not give him Cloud—only Cloud could do that, and he already had. Just as soon as he got free of this...delusion or whatever it was that the alien bitch masquerading as his mother was showing him, he'd find his Cloud, pop the question **again**, and regardless of the answer, spend the rest of his life proving to Cloud his devotion.

In response to his resolve, Jenova shrieked. _"No! My son, I gave you life and power! I offer you eternity, for you and for your toy, and this is how you repay me? Ungrateful wretch!"_

Sephiroth scowled into the suddenly imageless and soundless void. _"You are __**not**__ my mother,"_ he intoned. _"Just die quietly. Nothing I can do could save you now, anyway. The Planet has passed her judgment and Holy has risen. You can take your little crusade and explain it to the Cosmos."_

Jenova screamed again, and he felt pain in his own body, rising toward the level of the agony he had been in out in the real world. But as the pain rose, his awareness of Jenova waned, ebbing until it was the thinnest of sensations, like the annoying tickle of a hair stuck to the back of one's neck. Irritated, he shook that last bit of her influence away, and found himself suddenly falling through darkness. He felt his body hit the ground, feeling grit and rocks beneath him, though he smelled somewhere the sweet scent of flowers.

A gloved hand touched his forehead. _"Knew you could do it, Seph."_

Sephiroth smiled. _"Zack..."_ He had missed his old friend and part-time lover. But since he had died, the only bit of Zack he had remaining was the little bit lingering inside of Cloud.

He frowned. If he was talking to Zack now... He struggled weakly. _"No. I can't die yet! I didn't get to ask Cloud to marry me again..."_

Soft female laughter greeted his protest and the scent of flowers grew stronger. _ "Then now's your chance. Make him happy. After all this, doesn't he deserve to finally be happy? Don't you?"_

_"Aeris,"_ he whispered gratefully. Somehow he knew she had forgiven him his weakness, the hurt caused to her and the Planet by him and those wearing his face. If she had ever really held it against him in the first place. "_Thank you."_

Silence was his answer as the flower smell faded, to be replaced by arid dust and blood and char. His body had that hollow feeling that filled in after particularly excruciating agony, mingled with a weakness and heaviness he had never before experienced. It felt like his ears were full of cotton, and he felt like a behemoth had smacked him repeatedly in the chest, but even so he heard Cloud's familiar voice. He sounded distressed, and Sephiroth clawed back into full consciousness to determine what **dared** now upset his beautiful mate.

His eyes opened to the most brilliant blue-violet in the world, Cloud's eyes full of worry as he bent over him. The unshed tears gleaming in them would have to go, but aside from that, and despite everything else, all was right in his world.

* * *

Cloud dragged himself back to awareness. He felt weak and disoriented, but the prickling of his skin and buzzing in his brain that signaled Jenova's presence had abated. He pried his eyes open and looked around himself. He was lying down in an untidy sprawl, a rock digging in just below his shoulder blade, and just inches from where Ultima Weapon was embedded in the depleted soil of the Wastes.

Most of the other SOLDIERs and AVALANCHE were already getting up and brushing the worst of the dirt off themselves. Reno and Tseng already had their heads together—both looked awful, pasty and exhausted, but they were smiling. Their closeness brought Cloud's wandering mind to Sephiroth with an abruptness that was almost painful. He remembered the general screaming, the sound violent enough to be the last thing he was aware of before his own agony pulled him under.

Panicked, Cloud tried to sit up, only to realize his back had given out again and his entire lower half was unresponsive. Snarling, he rolled over onto his belly, manhandling his numb legs until he could prop himself up enough to drag himself to where Sephiroth should be. The huge pile of dust—like someone had crushed and then burned a whole lot of Materia—that remained where Jenova had stood, got cursed for being between him and his lover, and paid no further attention. He also ignored the concerned calls from his friends and allies as he scooted through the dirt.

Sephiroth lay still as death in the grey dirt, but at least he wasn't a pile of ash like Jenova. Cloud took that as a good sign, and moved until he was close enough to check for a pulse.

Nothing.

Cloud couldn't help the exclamation of dismay that escaped him. He tore off his glove with his teeth and checked again. Still nothing.

"Oh, no," he heard one of the SOLDIERs behind him say, but he blocked it out. Sephiroth was **not** gone, not yet, not with so much still unresolved between them. He whipped out his Cure Materia and cast, and when that failed, tried Revive. When there was still no effect, he snarled and levered himself up over Sephiroth's rather peaceful-looking form and resorted to the old-fashioned method. It was hard to get the leverage he needed to do CPR correctly with no sensation or control over his lower body, but that wasn't going to stop him.

"Cloud..." Tifa's voice behind him was a distraction. "Cloud, come away. If the Materia don't work, then..."

"No!" he snarled at her, sparing her only a furious glare. His eyes were burning, and he was already getting tired, but he kept going. "No, he wouldn't leave like this. He can't just—" the words died in his throat, and he returned to his work. After he'd come so far, pushing aside insanity, death, and Jenova, Sephiroth was not going to die from a little bit of Holy power. And Aeris, she couldn't just let Sephiroth pass into the Lifestream—she had to know how much he needed him, what it would do to him to lose him. And if she didn't, then Zack would.

"Dammit," he half-panted, half-sobbed. "After all this, don't you think I deserve to finally be happy? Doesn't he? For once?"

Just then, Sephiroth shifted slightly, a low sound slipping from pinkening lips. Cloud's breath caught and he fumbled for a pulse, but before his fingers made contact, Sephiroth's eyes opened. For a startling moment, they were the clearest grey Cloud had ever seen, before the Mako green bled through to drown out their natural color. The pupils were and stayed round, and Cloud stared in shock and awe at this sign that Jenova's influence had been truly burned from his lover.

Sephiroth's newly human eyes were fixed on his own for a long moment, and a slight smile curved his mouth. Cloud felt a smile of his own threaten, and he blinked back the tears he had refused to shed in those horrible moments when he had thought...

"Marry me," he blurted inelegantly, then flushed at the graceless proposal. He heard gasps around them, and what sounded like someone crowing about winning the betting pool, but the only thing he was paying attention to now was Sephiroth.

Sephiroth blinked slowly, then **pouted**. "No fair," he groused in a weak voice that grew with every syllable. "I was going to propose to you again. I even told Zack and Aeris."

Cloud felt a bubble of glee rise up in his chest. "Deal with it. You asked last time, so it's my turn."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "But it was such an awful proposal, last time. You won't let me make up for it?"

Cloud grinned and lay down next to his silver-haired lover, pillowing his head on the wide protective belt. "Nope. It was fine then, and it's my turn now." He turned his eyes up to meet newly human ones. "You will, won't you?"

Sephiroth smiled and raised a shaking hand to pet Cloud's hair. There was no strength in his touch, and the normal furnace-like heat that usually emanated from him had faded, but the tenderness was still there.

"Yes, dear," he said, completely without joking.

Cloud smiled.

* * *

Hi, all!

So, what did you think? I'm such a sap, ending on something so sugary, especially after the fight we opened with.

I've had the mythology for Jenova worked out for an extremely long time. I wanted her to be a corrupted WEAPON since I played Final Fantasy X and thought to myself that Jenova and Sin were **awfully** similar. I wasn't exactly sure how to make it work in this story until Dirge of Cerberus freaking handed me the exact mechanism I needed. Seriously. That right there saved me a couple chapters of explanation, but I thought some of it still needed to make it into the fic. I like most of my major baddies to have some motivation or starting point, so Jenova wound up with an origin. Creepy, fugly, scary space-bitch that she is, she still had to come from somewhere.

I'm a little worried that this chapter may seem rushed—it seems that a lot got done in just this one part. I tried getting it to expand a little bit, but it just wanted to be as long as it is. Maybe my writing has gotten tighter? Or maybe I screwed it up. I'd really like to hear some opinions about this.

The next chapter is really more an epilogue than anything—putting the bow on the whole fic more than doing any significant development or resolution. It also features (what I think to be) an interesting POV shift. It will be posted absolutely no later than the end of day on the seventh (an auspicious day to end, no?), so please look out for it.

Sincerely,

-Akuma no Tsubasa


	24. A Wish Come True

Hi!

So, here it is—The Last Chapter. *SQUEEEEEEEE!* I am so excited to finally have this done and posted! Took me long enough.

Closing thoughts after the main course!

* * *

Reeve stood in his office at the edge of ruined Midgar, smiling out the window and up at the sky. In the months since the final battle against Jenova, things had quieted down and stabilized at a new state of normal. Things would never be quite the same again, but that was all to the good.

The tent town at the edge of Sector Six had simply failed to dissolve following the battle. Already, new buildings were being erected there, streets beginning to wind through the Wastes. The town was already being called 'Edge,' and anyone who had anything to do with Midgar's reconstruction or the governance of the world seemed to have set up shop there.

Reeve had to include himself in that number. Formal elections had been held—elections by the people of Midgar-Edge, by Reeve's own insistence—and he had found himself unexpectedly President of the new Shinra Corporation. Unexpectedly to him, anyway—Reno had informed him that everyone else had been so certain of the outcome, he hadn't even been able to get a betting pool set up. At least the obnoxiously endearing Cetra had lost in the pool about when Cloud and Sephiroth would quit dilly-dallying and get engaged again—one of Cloud's SOLDIER friends, a woman called Artemis, had taken that one by betting that Cloud would be the one to pop the question. She'd used the money on a shopping spree to make her feel better about the hand Cloud had crushed in his pain when channeling Holy. She'd only bought practical items though, and cheerfully ignored anyone who suggested she should buy something 'nice' or 'splurge.'

The ground forces from Junon had arrived just a bit late to the party—Jenova had apparently had foresight enough to send some of her monsters to harry them into a late arrival. But they had fortunately brought medical aid with them, and the Midgar defenders had been in dire need of it. By the end, losses had been ghastly, with some of the monsters even managing to get as far as the Militias guarding the civilians. The Junon forces also helped hunt down the last remaining Jenova-monsters, and maintained order when news of the victory made it to the shantytown.

Obviously, there had been one hell of a party. Reeve hadn't thought a city under siege could possibly have that much alcohol, but that night the dirt tracks between tents had practically run with the stuff. And over night a weird sort of monument had appeared at the site of the final showdown, consisting of a stake driven into the ground where each of the forty-nine SOLDIERs, AVALANCHE, and Cetra had stood when Jenova fell. The troopers on duty at the time had to have seen something, but they all professed ignorance of who could possibly have done the deed, and neither Reeve nor the military leadership had been inclined to press.

Over the months, the Monument had become much more permanent, with white marble obelisks put in place for each of the AVALANCHE members, mythril for the Cetra, and adamant for the SOLDIERs. A chunk of Meteor had been reclaimed from the Ruins and set in Jenova's place—the pile of burned-out Materia dust that was all that initially remained of her had dissolved into the Lifestream over the days immediately afterward. Someone had suggested putting a garden in the center of the circle, but the brutalized ground wouldn't support life, just yet. The rock garden put in as a place-holder had become a popular hang-out for those who weren't bothered by the memories the place contained.

While the wounds of the event were beginning to fade, there could be no doubt that people still felt the scars. So soon after Meteor fell, many people couldn't help but feel that some new tragedy must be just around the corner. There was an entire generation of children whose formative years were shaped primarily by Meteor and Jenova, the ramifications of which were still unknown.

And the threat wasn't completely over. Everyone knew that the Others were still coming, called by Jenova to a Reunion that now would never take place. It might be tomorrow, or centuries from now, but they would certainly be here eventually. Preparedness was the only possible response. One of Reeve's first acts as President had been to get the help of Nanaki and the rest of Cosmo Canyon to set up a world-wide network of monitoring stations to watch for any sign of alien incursion—telescopes, seismometers, and Lifestream monitors, among other things. They could no longer hope to use Cloud or Sephiroth's intuition to detect the proximity of the Others—or 'Shards,' as Sephiroth had taken to calling them.

Not one single Jenova cell remained within any of those who had been part of the circle calling Holy.

The changes for the regular SOLDIERs had been mild—a few days of mild Mako sickness while their bodies readjusted to their Mako levels and their new burn-rates. For Sephiroth and Cloud, however, the results had been much more drastic.

Years ago, Cloud had suffered a spinal injury that Hojo had mended with Jenova and Mako. With the Jenova cells gone, the partial healing that his own body had managed with the Mako's aid had been insufficient to allow him full feeling and mobility. Months later, he was still getting Mako treatments and physical therapy, though he was making great progress, and should even be back up to fighting trim eventually.

Sephiroth's entire being had been interlaced with Jenova cells. Everything had been affected, from his vision to his hearing, his memory to his coordination. Still, by sheer effort, and because he felt he had to protect Cloud while he was so vulnerable, the silver-haired general had managed to remain among the strongest, fastest, and most tactically brilliant SOLDIERs in all of Shinra. Cloud bitched about being 'protected,' but as long as no one else mentioned it, he seemed content to let Sephiroth take care of him while he recovered.

A rap at the door brought his attention back to the here and now. Elena entered with a stack of paperwork, a spare magazine for her handgun placed on top as a paperweight. As much of a help as she could be, there was no denying she was occasionally a little...odd. Once a Turk, always a Turk, apparently—not that she'd ever professed to have stopped being a Turk. She just combined her duties as Turk with those as his secretary. As long as he kept her away from Lord Godo, she usually was more help than harm. And everyone had troubles with the in-laws at some point—her in-law just happened to be a hidebound old warhorse who was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he'd likely never have grandchildren.

Not that Reeve would ever say so.

At least not to his face.

...

Please, he'd worked for the Turks himself—he'd managed to learn at least a little tact along the way.

"Planet to Reeve!" Elena singsonged, bringing him back to reality again. She smirked. "You haven't heard a thing I said, have you?" She gave a playful huff. "This is why I play for the other team."

Reeve cocked a brow. "So, Yuffie listens to you? That's amazing, because she certainly doesn't listen to anyone else."

Elena just smiled more widely. "No, of course she doesn't listen. But she does a better job of camouflaging the fact she isn't listening." She tapped the stack of papers, returning to business. "Most of this is just the usual junk getting passed up the chain, but probably too important for me to just rubber-stamp for you. The interesting bits are that Reno **finally** got off his lazy butt to write down the stuff he needs for that Cetra class they're putting on, and Cid's brought back the latest of Nanaki's reports. Riveting, I'm sure."

Reeve chuckled. "Doubtless. I wonder what hilarious mistakes his dictation software has made this time?"

Elena snickered. "I'll leave you to it, then, boss. Have fun. Shout if you need something. And if you're not out of here by the time I'm leaving, I **will** set Cait Sith on you. Or worse—Yuffie."

"Is that any way to talk about your princess?" he joked as he sat down to the paperwork.

Elena shrugged. "Friendship is loving someone despite their faults. True love is loving someone because of them. If she weren't such a pain in everybody's butts, she just wouldn't be my girl."

Reeve smiled as the door shut behind her. "Cute," he sighed wistfully to himself. It was a bit petty, but watching what seemed like the whole world pair off around him, he couldn't help but feel a little left out. Shaking his head, he determinedly focused his attention on the paperwork.

Reno's little class was an attempt to make sure that the skill critical to Jenova's defeat wasn't lost before the Shards arrived. Sephiroth had insisted that every human being was, more or less, a Cetra, and should therefore be able to summon Holy with a bit of training and effort. Given how few remained who could really be classed as 'Cetra' and how few of those were likely to leave children, anything that would allow them to retain the ability to summon Holy at need was welcome. Galen and Cloud had gotten their heads together and come up with a hypothesis that, now that Jenova was gone, humankind would begin to revert back into Cetra, but it would be many years before that could be proven.

So Reno had decided to try to teach regular human beings how to call on Holy. Of course, the redheaded Turk had the attention span of a fruit fly, and quickly grew bored of it, preferring to spend his time with Tseng and Taka, or communing with the Planet—'shaking up those old geezers,' he called it. So Galen wound up teaching most of it. It was hard work—Reeve had himself gone to a few sessions, just to find out what it really took to tap into the Planet's own power—but there had already been a few reports of small successes.

Meanwhile, Nanaki had taken on a role as guardian of the Planet, not just Cosmo Canyon. He and the Planetary Scientists at Cosmo Canyon had taken to recording and analyzing the outputs of the anti-Shard sensor net. One of the major difficulties was in deciding what was normal, so they could then figure out what was **ab**normal and subsequently how to respond. The current report detailed recent studies on using various geological markers as proxies for sensor data to build a historical record on which to base future observations. It was actually very interesting stuff, even if the dictation software the leonine guardian had to use occasionally made some epically funny errors. Something about the low growling undertone in his voice apparently confused the software. Reeve was never going to let the lion live down the fact that for fully half of a report, 'crevasse' had been rendered 'crave ass,' and poor Nanaki had missed a few instances of the error while proofreading.

The rebuilt _Highwind_, along with the fleet of smaller military aircraft, was the fastest method of carrying messages between continents. Even so long after Meteor fell, electronics still tended to glitch a lot in the Midgar area, so most important messages were physically carried from point A to point B. This put Cid Highwind in high demand, both as a messenger himself, and as a keen airship designer.

Vincent was still hanging out with the surly pilot, like an ever-present shadow. He seemed completely content to do so, too—or at least, he had never indicated any wish for things to be any other way to anyone Reeve knew. Reeve wondered if the two men were more than platonic, even though it was really none of his business. On the other hand, if he knew he was single, Reeve might try to catch Vincent's attention himself. Not that he would ever breathe a word of that anywhere anyone would ever hear of it—after all, the man had been a Turk, and if the knowledge existed anywhere, it was a safe bet Vincent would hear of it eventually. His efforts to keep his interest concealed were especially important given he saw the ex-Turk ever week to finish repairs to his mangled left-arm. He didn't know whether Vincent or his own mortification would kill him first if the admittedly hot ex-Turk ever found out.

Not that he had time for such entanglements, though. Being President of the company everyone on the Planet—even Wutai, to some extent—looked to for direction and protection was a lot more work than either Rufus or Old Man Shinra had ever made it look. Reeve personally didn't think the Company had any business trying to rule the world—they were a frigging utility company, for love of Holy!—but he was versed enough in human psychology and sociology to know that in the wake of such crises, it was best not to rock the boat too much. Besides, the state of the communications systems across the world necessitated a certain amount of autonomy among the outlying regions. They tended to look to him, to Shinra, for intercontinental affairs, or anything of sufficiently large scale, but the day-to-day business of getting on with life and survival seemed to run just fine at more local levels. And he was grateful for that. Maybe some day, they'd all be able to elect a real world-wide government. Until that day, he would do his best.

Another knock at the door again interrupted his musings and mechanical reading and signing of reams of documents. Elena leaned in the doorway, her jacket slung casually over her shoulder. "Come on, boss-man. Time to go."

He blinked and looked at his computer clock—as much as he loved mechanisms and gadgets, he couldn't stand a ticking wall clock. Geeze, it really was time to leave if he wanted to catch any of the Festival at all. He looked at the heap of work he still had to do, then shrugged. Screw it—not like anyone else was in the office today, not with the Meteor Festival on. In the wake of the Meteor crisis, the survivors had mostly thrown huge parties to celebrate their survival. Somehow, this had already become a tradition.

He tossed the documents in one of the locking drawers of his desk and logged off his computer. He'd read the most interesting bits, according to what Elena had pointed out, so if he was a little late getting to the rest...well. He wondered if it made him a workaholic that he was already calculating how early he'd have to come in tomorrow to make up for all he didn't get to.

"No coming in early tomorrow," Elena said.

He rolled his eyes. "Am I that transparent?"

She laughed. "No, you do pretty well showing only what you want to show—probably how you survived being an executive in the old days. But, I've been working for you long enough now to know your habits." She came in and threaded her arm through his and pulled him gently out of the office. "It sort of defeats the purpose of a holiday if you spend the whole time worried about work."

Reeve knew when he was beaten, and he didn't want the Turk to resort to more underhanded tactics, so he just went along with her guiding pull. They were nearly all the way to the festival location when he finally noticed the light level, and turned his eyes to the top of her blonde head.

"You hacked my computer and changed the time settings, didn't you?"

She blinked wide, innocent eyes up at him. "I never! I'm hurt you think so badly of me!" She grinned. "I didn't have to hack—I just remoted in. Administrator privileges."

Reeve smirked. "I guess it's true what they say about married couples coming to resemble each other. I could have sworn I was just talking to Yuffie."

She resumed the innocent expression. "Who do you think put me up to it, boss-man? Seriously, though, your friends are worried that you never take any time for yourself. You'll work yourself into an early grave, you know. No one wants that. Especially now that we finally have a boss worth working for. Rufus was," she paused, thinking. "Well, he was sort of like family. But you don't get to choose family, whereas the whole population of this city chose you. So do the job, but remember you have to take care of yourself, too. Holy knows you don't want me to try to do it!"

Reeve chuckled, but inside he was touched. He hadn't thought anyone cared that much. He was used to being essentially invisible, the least of all the Shinra Department Heads, if only because he didn't care to make a spectacle of himself and beg for money the way Palmer did. It had served him well on those occasions he was required to assist the Turks, and even now it helped when he needed to slip out of the office and not be bothered. At least it meant he could come to the Festival without a huge security detail, though he knew between Elena and the handful of others that were bound to be close by, he was better guarded than most supposed.

Elena suddenly grinned and jerked her chin at one of the festival booths they were approaching. "Hey, if couples start to resemble each other over time, what do you figure those two will be like, years from now?"

Reeve looked over and saw Cloud and Sephiroth at the stall, being offered garlands of flowers by the vendor. Cloud was leaning on his cane lightly but chattering animatedly with the vendor—Sephiroth merely looked long-suffering. Cloud took a necklace of red flowers from the vendor and moved to place it around a suddenly shocked Sephiroth's neck. The taller man made a warding gesture, leaning away. Predictably, Cloud gave him puppy-dog eyes, and the most fearsome general Shinra ever had buckled.

Reeve snickered. "You mean besides pretty enough to make angels envious?" Elena snickered, too. "I don't know. Plenty of time to find out, though. In fact, I think I'm going to go say hello."

Elena patted him on the shoulder. "Okay. I'm supposed to meet Yuffie soon, anyway. Try to have fun, okay? Channel Cait, or something." The Turk sauntered off, leaving the President to walk over to his friends.

Sephiroth seemed to be negotiating with the vendor for a retaliatory necklace—in pink—for Cloud. Reeve smiled at their antics. For two of the most dangerous individuals ever to walk the Planet, they were awfully cute sometimes.

"Good evening, Cloud, Sephiroth," he said when he was close enough. Sephiroth waved distractedly at him, intent on getting his 'revenge,' but Cloud looked over with a smile.

"Reeve! Hey! No one was sure you were going to make it." The blond seemed more relaxed than Reeve had ever before known him to be, and it made him suddenly glad Elena had gotten him out of the office.

"I probably wouldn't have," he admitted. "But I guess Elena promised Yuffie, or something. It's nice to take a break."

"Good," Sephiroth said, draping a pretty pink necklace around Cloud's shoulders without giving him a chance to protest. Cloud pouted, but the general kept his eyes on Reeve. Reeve was still startled by the sheer human-ness of them whenever he saw them. "It would not do for you to make yourself ill."

Reeve rubbed the back of his neck abashedly. "Elena said something similar. Am I really that bad?"

"**Yes.**" Their chorus left no room for disagreement.

"Um, e-excuse me?" All three of them looked over at the vendor, who was looking right at Reeve. "Are you President Reeve?" she asked, sounding almost breathless. At Reeve's wary nod, the lady squealed excitedly. "Oh, my stars, the **President** is at my stall!" She started rustling around the stall. "Oh, please take some flowers! Free of charge!" The woman continued to babble excitedly about how much everyone owed him and how lucky it was for her to have so many heroes coming by her stall today.

Sephiroth looked a bit uncomfortable. "I think I'll go get some food while you get your flowers. Would you care for something?"

Reeve blinked. "Oh, you don't have to go to any trouble," he said distractedly, trying to talk the flower vendor out of her determination to have him walking around with some of her flowers. Eventually he just gave up, turning to Cloud, who was grinning at him.

"I could have told you it was useless trying to talk her out of it," the blond said with a smile. "As she told me, she lived in Midgar during Meteor, and her home was destroyed during the fall. The only reason she survived was that a nice man in a suit came door-to-door in her neighborhood telling people to leave. Just let her express a little gratitude, Reeve."

Reeve blinked. He hadn't recognized her as one of those he'd met during that hectic night spent trying to evacuate everyone from the city. On the other hand, he had met so many, and his memory for names and faces was mediocre at best. So he politely told the lady he'd be happy to take some of her flowers and let her pick out the ones she thought best.

He watched her string the blossoms onto a string for a moment, then turned to Cloud. "So. It's nice to see you, Cloud. How've you been?"

The blond toyed with the pink flowers around his neck. "Actually, pretty good. The doctors say I probably won't even need this," he held up his cane, "in another month or so. I really don't need it often, anyway, just when I'm on my feet for a while. And it's been nice to finally have a little bit of peace."

"So you can enjoy your husband, huh?" Reeve asked, waggling his brows with a grin. The two of them had tied the knot barely six weeks after defeating Jenova under the theory that if they waited too long, something was bound to pop up and interfere. Cloud had still been in a wheelchair, but both had put on their dress uniforms to be married in a small ceremony held at Aeris's church in front of only a couple dozen friends. The reception had been a lot bigger, but then, they were prominent figures in the world, these days.

Cloud meanwhile, was smiling at his own memories. "Yeah. Though the peace is nice just for itself, too."

Reeve nodded, looking down the way to where Sephiroth was waiting patiently in line at a food vendor's booth. "And how's he doing?"

Cloud looked over toward Sephiroth, too, his eyes a little sad. "Better. He doesn't show it, but losing a part of himself has really shaken him. It used to be, he would have been able to hear us talking over here, even over the noise. Now he can't. It's taking him some getting used to. Things he's come to expect of himself he'll suddenly discover are no longer possible. Sometimes he gets pretty mopey about it."

"Not at all like his husband, right?" Reeve asked gently.

Cloud smiled—it was amazing to Reeve how much more free the blond was with smiles, these days. Married life clearly suited him. "Nah, I'm okay. A couple more issues to deal with, I guess. Did you hear? Seph took it into his head that he was going to compile all the relevant bits of Project Pink and our experiences with Jenova and write **the** definitive resource about her in case the Shards don't arrive until long after our time. It's been rough—that stuff gives him nightmares. But since he got some version of their history from Jenova herself, I guess he thinks it's his job to make sure it doesn't get lost to time."

"Huh," Reeve said. "No, I hadn't heard that. It's a good idea, though." He saw Sephiroth step up to the food vendor's counter, point at a couple items, and hold up three fingers. "Just so long as he doesn't hurt himself doing it."

"Hello, Pot!" Cloud chirped. "I see you've met Kettle." Reeve rolled his eyes, but let the comment go—apparently he **was** a workaholic, enough that everyone felt the need to inform him of such.

Just then, the flower lady got done stringing the flowers on his necklace and offered it to him. He thanked her graciously, especially after she persisted in refusing his money, then set the garland of cheerful yellow flowers around his neck. She cooed over how wonderful he made them look, and while he rather thought it was the other way around, he couldn't deny that the contrast of the bright yellow against his blue suit jacket was rather fetching. He thanked her again, then moved to stroll with Cloud toward the concession stand.

"And how's Tifa?" Reeve continued.

Cloud blinked at him. "You've got a Turk for a secretary and you don't know? Geeze, you really have been working too hard. Anyway, it seems Tifa finally allowed Rude to take her on a date a few weeks back. Ever since, they've been...cuddly."

Reeve couldn't help but snicker. "I always knew that big wall of muscle was a big softie."

Cloud grinned. "You should have seen the interrogation Barret did. Turk meets Terrorist. It was classic. Of course, Barret was just worried for Tifa and Marlene, but Rude was not going to be run off.

"Barret and Marlene are fine, by the way. I'm sure you knew Barret decided to go scout new sources of energy, and Marlene is delighted that he takes her with him sometimes. I think she's got a little bit of wanderlust in her. When she's here with Tifa, she's an absolute angel, though. She told Barret the other day that she wanted to learn how to make things grow 'like the Flower-Lady did' and travel all over the world fixing the places the Reactors damaged."

Reeve sighed. He'd been the one to design the latest Mako Reactors, to make them cost-effective enough to be placed in locations that didn't already boast Mako fountains. To some extent, he felt responsible for making it so **easy** for Shinra to make a profit off the Planet's pain. But he pushed the guilty feelings aside and managed a smile for Cloud. "Sounds like Aeris really made an impact on that little girl. I'm glad someone her age is thinking about trying to heal the Planet. This is her world, after all, and will be after we're all gone. She shouldn't have to think of things only in terms of how to prepare for the Shards." His mind already was ticking over how he could covertly help ensure she got whatever training she wanted. Having kidnapped the child once—something he felt terribly about—he liked to do whatever he could to make amends. Plus she was bright and sweet and deserved to be encouraged in all her endeavors.

Cloud shook a finger at him. "Hey. It's a holiday, Reeve. If **I** can lighten up for a day, so can you."

"Seconded," Sephiroth added as he arrived with the food. "The work will still be there in the morning, and you taking a little time to unwind isn't going to cause the end of the world." He handed a portion of food to Cloud, and another to Reeve.

"Oh, you didn't have to—" Reeve began, but Sephiroth cut him off.

"I know I didn't **have** to, but I felt like it. Eat your food, President Workaholic."

Reeve snorted. "This from one of the few men in Shinra I **know** is worse than I am?"

Cloud grinned. "Not since the wedding, he's not. I guess stacks of paperwork just don't seem as important when you've got a lover waiting at home who might cut you off if you come back too late, too often." He took a bite of his food, looking thoughtful. "Maybe we should set you up with someone, Reeve. That'd get you out of the office!" he teased.

Reeve rolled his eyes. "Funny." Cloud **giggled**, and Reeve blinked at him incredulously. "Well, the world has certainly changed. Cloud Strife, Prince of Angst, not just smiling, but giggling." He looked with exaggerated mock-suspicion at the food, which only made Cloud laugh more.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, though his eyes shone with amusement. "Captain Strife-Valentine, stop annoying the President so we can all enjoy our holiday."

Cloud fired off a sharp salute, ruined by his giggle-fit. "Yes, General Valentine-Strife, sir!"

"Ugh, what a mouthful," Reeve opined, but he was smiling, too, by now. "Couldn't you at least have kept it short?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "Vincent gave his blessings before we did it, and I find it rather...nice to have a connection to other people, a family."

Cloud looped an arm in Reeve's, pulling him toward the heart of the Festival. "Yeah, Vincent doesn't even blink anymore. It still makes Cid go all cross-eyed, though—funny as hell. Not as bad as whenever someone tries to call Elena 'Mrs. Kisaragi,' though. I thought she was going to blow up right on the spot. You should have **seen**..."

Reeve allowed the compact blond to drag him down the street. It was good to see Cloud so happy. He'd been very concerned for him for a very long time. So, even though things weren't perfect yet, and knowing he'd have to go back to worries and paperwork tomorrow, Reeve very consciously decided to just have fun tonight. _"Channel Cait,"_ Elena had said.

"Oh, look!" he exclaimed, interrupting Cloud's description of the latest trouble his SOLDIER buddies had gotten into. "A fortune-teller!"

Cloud smacked him companionably on the back. "Ha! Guess you better go take a look. Professional curiosity, right?"

Sephiroth harrumphed. "**Professional**? Please tell me you don't believe in that charlatanry."

Cloud reached around Reeve to whack his husband. "Hey, don't say that. Cait was right on the money, back then. A little vague, maybe, but he was right. Besides, you and your constant, unrelenting logic can take a break—we're here to have fun!"

"Yes, dear," Sephiroth chimed.

Reeve marveled again at how much the world had changed, then sat down in front of the fortune-teller with a smile.

Somehow, he already knew that the future was bright.

* * *

Cloud sighed deeply, happily curling against Sephiroth's side and pillowing his head on a well-muscled shoulder. Sephiroth purred, languidly stroking fingertips over Cloud's bare, sweat-slicked spine. The breeze that sighed in through the open window held just the hint of chill as summer rolled inexorably toward autumn. Due to the slant of the plate, the window was angled up at the sky, and Cloud looked out at the stars. They still weren't as bright as they would have been in Nibelheim, but it was nice to finally have a clear enough sky and enough peace and quiet to just take a moment to look up.

"You're thinking awfully hard, Cloud," Sephiroth murmured, pressing a kiss to his hair. "I must not have worn you out enough."

Cloud smiled and stole a proper kiss from his husband, before looking back at the night sky. "Reeve seemed pretty preoccupied by the thought of the Shards."

Sephiroth sighed. "Not you, too." He tilted Cloud's chin so their eyes locked. "Don't worry about it. You could waste your whole life waiting for them to show up and never set eyes on one. Or maybe they'll show up in our living room tomorrow. There's nothing we can do about it that we aren't already doing, so let's not waste the time between worrying about it."

"So you think they'll really come?" Cloud asked, annoyed by how child-like the question sounded, even in his raspy voice.

Sephiroth snorted indelicately. "Of course they'll come. And they'll probably keep coming and coming and coming, at least until all those Jenova was able to reach directly have gotten here. Maybe more, if they've passed the word."

Cloud stared incredulously at his lover. "And you're telling me to relax and not worry about it?"

Sephiroth crooked a brow. "What else can you do? Odds are most we'll have to leave to future generations. You worrying yourself into an early grave only hurts the chances of you passing your knowledge into the future. And makes me worry about you." He smirked. "Besides, we killed one psycho space bitch—when the Shards get here, we'll curb-stomp them, too."

Cloud frowned at him, thinking _"someone's been spending too much time around Reno," _but the expression cleared quickly just from looking into those Mako-green eyes. He smiled and stroked Sephiroth's cheek. "So much has changed. You. Me. The Planet itself, I think."

"For the better?" Sephiroth asked, and Cloud knew this was one of those things they were probably going to be working through for years to come. Sephiroth was still ungodly fast and strong, still healed faster than anyone would normally, but while those on the outside would never know the difference, Sephiroth knew, and worried about it. Cloud, however, was just grateful they at least didn't have to worry about any lingering effects from Jenova here on the Planet. With himself, Sephiroth, and Vincent all clear of her taint, all remaining fragments of her were tiny, weak, and doomed to die with their hosts. The small trade-off in durability and preternatural senses was a price Cloud didn't mind paying for such freedom.

"Yeah, Seph. Definitely for the better." He let out a put-upon sigh. "Though I **do** miss all that extra stamina..."

Sephiroth growled playfully and rolled over on top of him. "Shall I show you my 'stamina,' Captain Strife-Valentine?"

Cloud grinned and hooked an ankle around Sephiroth's legs. "Do try to keep up, General Valentine-Strife."

So what if there was still an enemy force of unknown numbers and abilities headed toward them? He had all he could ever wish for right here.

_"Sometimes, if you wish hard enough, you just might get it."_

_**~The End**_

* * *

Hi, again!

So, I hope you all liked the end of _All You Can Know_. It's been a long trip, hasn't it? The world has changed a lot since I started this—way back when Final Fantasy was always final, mind. Canon has changed, and it has been a **nightmare** trying to keep my little piece of fanon straight with the changes to Canon and all the evolution Fanon has gone through since. (OMG, I'm such a sucker for TimeTravel!fic!) So, I know that Meteor supposedly came down in January, and I have the Meteor festival in late summer—sue me, it doesn't look like winter to me in game. Besides, summer festivals are so much fun!

Playing around with Reeve's POV...honestly, once I played Dirge of Cerberus, I completely fell in love with Reeve as a character. He's...cute. (Might have to make some Reeve!fic, since there isn't nearly enough out there.) Plus, I figured he was the one character in a position to give us a recap on how everyone's doing after killing Her Royal Sliminess. I debated going to Tseng or Reno for that, but remembered I did a short bit from Reno's POV waaaay back when they rescued Sephiroth. So Reeve it was.

So. One last time I'd like to thank all the lovely people who reviewed this story. Thanks to those who stuck with it all this long way, and welcome to those just reading it. I have never been so happy to type the words 'The End' and hope you all achieved the same sense of satisfaction I did. If the muse ever comes back, I may dabble some more in this universe (and anyone else who wants to is welcome, just let me know so I can be sure to read and review!). However, I mostly consider this finally to be complete.

Just because it's over doesn't mean you can skate out on reviews, though! I'm still and always polishing my writing (and I cringe with horror whenever I read earlier fic...), so all comments are deeply appreciated.

Signing off,

-Akuma no Tsubasa


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